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•       •  •        . 

NG  DA' 

University  of  California  •  Berkeley 




Carlyle  Channing  Davis  (left)  and  William  A.  Alderson,  the 
authors,  listening  to  Dona  Mariana  de  Coroncl  reciting  her  asso- 
ciations with  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  and  facts  attending  the  origin 
of  "  Kamona." 


"  R  A  M  O  N  A  " 



Formerly  Editor  "Rocky  Mountain  News" 
and  ''Denver  Times*'  and  Proprietor 
and  Editor  of  Leadville  "Evening 
Chronicle'*  and  ''Herald  Democrat,'1 



Of  the  Los  Angeles  Bar,  Author  of  Legal 
Treatises  on  "Receivers"  and  "judicial 
Writs,"  and  "  Her  e's  t  o  You,"  a  Book  of  Sentiments 


220    East    23d    Street 

Copyright,  1914,  by  Doooc  PUBLISHING  Co. 


The  statements  in  this  volume  attributed  to  Susan 
Coolidge  and  Henry  Sandham  are  from  their  contribu- 
tions to  Little,  Brown  &  Co.'s  illustrated  edition  of 
"  Ramona,"  1900. 

"  Glimpses  of  California  and  the  Missions,"  from  which 
extracts  are  used,  was  published  in  1902  by  Little,  Brown 
&  Co.,  and  is  beautifully  illustrated  by  Mr.  Henry  Sand- 



IN  this  volume  is  related  for  the  first  time 
the  true  story  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson's 
great  American  novel,  "  Ramona."  The 
facts  and  fictions  of  the  romance  are  dis- 
tinctively designated,  and  its  inspiration  and 
purpose  disclosed. 

The  originals  of  the  characters  of  the  novel 
are  identified,  and  their  true  names  given. 

Innumerable  fictions  concerning  the  story 
that  have  gained  currency,  some  having  been 
commercialized  by  unscrupulous  persons,  are 

Many  thrilling  and  heretofore  unpublished 
facts  pertinent  to  the  romance  and  its  author 
are  here  recited;  some  surpassing  in  tragedy 
the  facts  and  fictions  of  the  novel  itself. 

The  illustrations  have  been  carefully  selected, 
and  present  scenes  and  persons  inseparably  as- 
sociated with  "  Ramona,"  many  having  been 
especially  produced  for  this  volume,  and  others 
never  before  having  been  given  to  the  public. 

The  contents  of  this  book  have  been  so  pre- 
pared as  to  be  interesting  and  intelligent  to 
those  who  are  not  familiar  with  "  Ramona,"  as 


well  as  to  those  who  know  the  thrilling  and 
pathetic  California  story. 

Here  are  recited  facts  which  constitute  a 
complete  story  in  themselves,  and  are,  indeed, 
more  thrilling  and  tragic  than  the  fiction  of 
the  prevailing  imaginary  novelist. 

Especially  do  we  hope  to  create  new  interest 
in  the  greatest  of  American  novels,  "  Ramona," 
and  give  tribute  to  its  author,  Helen  Hunt 


Los  Angeles. 




The  Most  Brilliant,  Impetuous 

and  Thoroughly  Individual  Woman  of 

American  Literature. 

"  What  songs  found  voice  upon  those  lips, 

What  magic  dwelt  within  the  pen, 
Whose  music  into  silence  slips, 

Whose  spell  lives  not  again! 
O,  sunset  land!    O,  land  of  vine, 

And  rose,  and  bay !     In  silence  here 
Let  fall  one  little  leaf  of  thine, 

With  love,  upon  her  bier." 



Authors'  Statement xi 

A    Tribute    to    Helen    Hunt    Jackson,    Carlyle 

Channing  Davis        ......         i 

Inspiration  of  "  Ramona  " — The  Coronels      .         .       15 


Meeting  the  Coronels — Bishop  Mora — Mrs.  Jack- 
son's Affection  for  the  Coronels  ...  20 


First  Meeting  with  Mission  Indians — Preparations 
to  Visit  Indian  Settlements — Camulos  Ranch 
— Home  of  Ramona 27 


The  Real  Ramona  and  Other  Characters — Ales- 
sandro — Guadalupe — The  Ramona  Jewels — Kill- 
ing of  Alessandro — The  Alessandro-Ramona 

Romance 33 


>>  CONTENTS  * 



Where  "  Ramona  "  was  Written— The  Name  "  Ra- 
mona  " — Helping  the  Mission  Indians — Mrs. 
Jackson's  Death — Love  of  the  Indians  for  Her  .  46 

Don  Antonio  Francisco  de  Coronel        .         .         -55 


Mrs.  Jackson's  Home  at  Colorado  Springs — Indian 
Environments — The  Utes  and  Other  Tribes — A 
Festival  in  Her  Honor 63 


Investigating  the  Mission  Indians — The  Meeker 
Tragedy  —  "  Ramona  "  and  "  Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin" .74 


Publication  of  Report  upon  the  Indians — An  Indian 
School — Mrs.  Jackson's  Burial  Place — Personal 
Interview — Preparing  for  "  Ramona  "  .82 


The  Coronels — The  "  Real "  Ramona  and  Her 
Baskets — The  Inspiration  of  "  Ramona  " — Ca- 
mulos  Ranch  and  Its  Customs — The  Ramona 
Jewels 89 





Hon.  Reginald  F.  del  Valle— The  Character  of 
Felipe — The  Mission  Play — Lucretia  Louise  del 
Valle— The  "  Ramona  "  Story  and  the  del  Valle 
Family — Offensive  Tourists  .  .  .  .102 


Dona  Ysabel  del  Valle— The  Mistress  of  Camulos 

Ranch — Sefiora  Moreno  of  "  Ramona  "  108 

The  Originals  of  the  Characters  of  "Ramona"      .     117 


Dona  Mariana  de  Coronel — The  Coronel  Collec- 
tion— Bishop  Amat — Saint  Vibiana's  Cathedral 
— Don  Antonio  and  General  Kearney — Letters 
of  Mrs.  Jackson  to  the  Coronels  .  .  .164 


Contributed  by  Dofia  Mariana  de  Coronel — Her 
Association  with  Mrs.  Jackson  .  .  .  185 


The   Home  of   Ramona,   July,    1913,   William  A. 
Alderson         .......       197 


*  > 



Abbot  Kinney,  Co-Commissioner  with  Mrs.  Jack- 
son— N.  H.  Mitchell 215 


Henry  Sandham,  the  Artist  of  "  Ramona "    .         .     234 


The   Dramatization   of   " Ramona" — Helen   Hunt 

Jackson,  Ina  Coolbrith 256 



The  illustrations  are  made  a  special  feature  of  this 
volume.  Many  of  the  photographs  from  which  they 
were  produced  were  taken  expressly  for  the  authors,  and 
others  have  never  before  been  given  to  the  public.  The 
publication  of  "  Ramona  "  excited  great  interest  in  Cali- 
fornia, and  several  of  the  old  photographers  in  the  south- 
ern part  of  the  State  soon  afterward  visited  and  photo- 
graphed many  of  the  scenes  mentioned  and  described 
in  the  story.  These  old  plates  were  long  since  laid  aside, 
and  it  was  with  great  effort  that  they  were  discovered. 
As  an  incident  to  this  labor,  one  photographer  handled 
approximately  four  thousand  plates  in  assisting  the 
authors  to  select  photographs  for  illustrating  the  text. 

Where  it  is  not  otherwise  stated,  each  illustration 
shows  its  particular  scene  as  it  appeared  at  the  time 
"  Ramona  "  was  written.  The  two  beautiful  pictures  of 
Don  Antonio  and  Mariana  de  Coronel  together,  in  Spanish 
apparel,  show  this  couple  to  be  just  as  Mrs.  Jackson 
knew  and  described  them.  The  posing  was  done  under 
the  supervision  of  Miss  Annie  B.  Picher,  Pasadena,  Cali- 
fornia, soon  after  the  publication  of  "  Ramona,"  and  the 
authors  are  indebted  to  her  for  the  use  of  the  plates. 



Alderson,  William  A.  Frontispiece 

Altar  Cloth,  the  Torn 

on  the  altar  in  Camulos  Chapel  240 

showing  the  rent  29 
Arbor  at  Camulos 

as  it  appeared  in  1883  254 

as  it  appeared  in  1913  202 
Arcade  to  Chapel,  Camulos 

front  view  81 
side  view  113 
Aunt  Ri  158 
Balcony  Scene,  Camulos  93 
Baldwin's  Ranch,  bell  taken  from  San  Gabriel  Mis- 
sion 224 
Mission  at  Camulos,  1913  208 
bells  and  priest  at  Camulos  51 
bells  and  chapel  as  they  appeared  in  1913  199 
San  Gabriel  bell  on  Baldwin's  ranch  224 
"  Death  Bell "  at  Santa  Barbara  Mission  255 
Blanca  Yndart  35 
Brook  at  Camulos  97 
Cahuilla  Graveyard  125 
Cahuilla  Ramona                                                      49,  50,  126 
Camulos — 

altar  cloth,  torn,  on  altar  240 

altar  cloth,  torn,  showing  rent  29 

balcony  scene  93 

*                  INDEX  TO   ILLUSTRATIONS  * 


Camulos — 

brook,  the  97 
chapel,  fence,  cross  and  bells,  as  they  ap- 
peared in  1913  199 
chapel,  see  title,  "  Chapel  at  Camulos  " 
cross  near  chapel  199 
cross  on  north  hill  199 
dogs  209 
dwelling,  showing  south  veranda  38 
English  walnut  tree  213 
fence  on  which  altar  cloth  was  hung  199 
fountain,  the  124 
grape  arbor,  as  it  appeared  in  1883  254 
grape  arbor,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  202 
graveyard  96 
guitar  player  on  veranda  46 
inner  court,  as  it  appeared  at  time  of  Mrs. 

Jackson's  visit  42 

inner  court,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  203 

Mission  bells,  as  they  appeared  in  1913  208 

Mission  bells  and  priest  51 

north  side  of  kitchen,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  209 

old  winery  203 
olive  mill  and  tank,  as  they  appeared  at  time 

of  Mrs.  Jackson's  visit  89 

olive  mill  and  tank,  as  they  appeared  in  1913  202 

pomegranate  trees,  as  they  appeared  in  1913  112 

public  road  209 

raised  part  of  south  veranda  47 

Ramona's  bedroom  80 

ranch  and  hills  to  the  north  88 

ranch  and  hills  to  the  south  92 

south  side  of  kitchen  43 


*                  INDEX   TO   ILLUSTRATIONS  * 


Camulos — 

south  veranda,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  198 

south  veranda  38 

veranda  on  inner  court,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  213 

west  veranda,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  208 

willows,  the                                                      39,  198 

window  with  woman  104 

Cannon,  first  in  California  169 

Carriage  used  by  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  in  Southern 

California  34 

Chapel  at  Camulos — 

exterior  view,  taken  in  1913  199 

arcade  to,  front  view  81 

arcade  to,  side  view  113 

interior  of  212 

interior,  showing  tear  in  altar  cloth  240 

Chart,  Made  on  Sheep-Skin,  Showing  Deposit  of 

Gold  Plate  of  San  Fernando  Mission  121 

Church  of  the  Angels,  Los  Angeles  241 

Cloth,  the  torn  altar —  29 

as  it  appears  on  the  altar  at  Camulos  240 

Coronel — 

bust  of  Don  Antonio  16 

bust  of  Mariana  17 

Don  Antonio  and  Mariana  with  guitar  53 

Dona  Mariana  as  photographed  in  1913  188 
Dona  Mariana  with  the  authors           Frontispiece 

Don  Antonio  on  horseback  15 

Don  Antonio  in  his  oratory  65 

Don  Antonio  and  first  cannon  in  California  169 

Dona  Mariana  in  her  new  home  48 

Don  Antonio  with  guitar  singing  to  Mariana  61 

Don  Antonio  and  Mariana                             53,  168 


*                  INDEX  TO  ILLUSTRATIONS  * 


Coronel — 

model  of  San  Luis  Rey  Mission  172 

statuary  work  165 

Coronel  Home  25 

Crosses — 

near  the  chapel  at  Camulos  51 

on  north  hill,  Camulos  199 

Davis,  Carlyle  Channing  Frontispiece 

Del  Valle— 

family  rosary  115 

Hon.  Reginald  F.  105 

Lucretia  Louise  107 

Sefiora  Dona  Ysabel  106 

Dogs  at  Camulos  209 

El  Recreo  25 

Farrar,  Jim  I59»  l64 

Fathers  at  Santa  Barbara  Mission  141 

Fountain  at  Camulos  124 

Gaspara,  Father — 

in  vestments  155 

his  home  at  San  Diego  Mission  136 

Gateway,  Garden  of  the  Gods  73 

Grape  Arbor — 

as  it  appeared  in  1913  202 
as  it  appeared  at  time  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  visit    254 

Grave  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  14 

Graveyard — 

at  Camulos  96 

at  Cahuilla  125 

at  Santa  Barbara  Mission  151 

Guitar  of  Don  Antonio  de  Coronel  255 

Hansel's  Store  152 

Home  of  Father  Gaspara 




Indians  — 

band  of  sheep-shearers  243 

Cahuilla  Indian  49 
Chief  Jose  Pachito  and  his  captains  at  Pala      60 

Grevoja  Pa,  old  Temecula  woman  243 

home  of,  at  Pachanga  249 
meeting  of,  at  Pala                                           28,  52 

meeting  with  Don  Antonio  de  Coronel  28 

Padro  Pablo  and  his  wife  at  Pauma  72 
Ramona  Lubo                                             49,  50,  126 

Ramona  Lubo  kneeling  at  grave  50 

Ramona  Lubo  with  star  basket  126 

Indian  Mission  School,  San  Diego  225 
Inner  Court  at  Camulos  — 

as  it  appeared  at  time  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  visit      42 

as  it  appeared  in  1913  203 
Jackson,  Helen  Hunt  — 

full  figure  2 

bust  3 

grave  of  14 

Joaquin,  Father  180 

Kinney,  Abbot  216 

Kitchen  at  Camulos  — 

north  side,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  209 

south  side  43 
Lubo,  Ramona                                                       49,  50,  126 

McGuire,  Mrs.  James  35 

Major  Domo,  Glen  Eyrie  73 

Mitchell,  N.  H.  230 

Mora,  Bishop  Francisco  24 

Mrs.  Jordan  158 

Office  of  Judge  Wells  164 




Olive  Mill  and  Tank  at  Camulos  — 

as  it  appeared  at  time  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  visit      89 

as  it  appeared  in  1913  202 

Pachanga  Indian  Abode  249 
Pachito,  Chief  Jose                                                       52,  60 

Pablo,  Padro,  and  Other  Indians  72 
Pala  Mission  — 

exterior  view  153 

interior  view  154 

Pomegranate  Trees  112 

Rainbow  Falls  64 

"  Ramona  "  — 

copy  presented  by  Mrs.  Jackson  to  Senora 

de  Coronel  194 
inscription  in  copy  presented  by  Mrs.  Jack- 

son to  Senora  de  Coronel  195 

first  copy  of  Spanish  translation  of  189 

Ramona's  Bedroom,  Camulos  80 

Ramona  Falls  64 

Ramona  Lubo— 

standing  at  her  husband's  grave  49 

weeping  at  her  husband's  grave  50 

with  her  star  basket  126 

Road  Behind  Camulos  Dwelling  209 

Roc  ha,  Rojerio  120 

Rosary  of  del  Valle  Family  115 

Saint  Vibiana's  Cathedral- 

front  view  173 

interior  view  177 

the  altar  176 

Salvierderra,  Father  133 

portrait  by  Henry  Sandhaxn  248 

San  Antonio  de  Pala  Mission  153,  154 




San  Buenaventura  Mission  — 

exterior  view  128 

interior  view  132 

San  Diego  Mission  — 

brick  walls   of  Father   Ga  span's   proposed 

church  146 

chapel  249 

old  Mission  building  221 

Father  Gaspara's  home  136 

San  Fernando  Mission  181 

San  Gabriel  Mission  — 

priest  in  pulpit  180 

exterior  view  217 

interior  view  220 

page  of  old  record  224 

missing  bell  224 

San  Juan  Capistrano  Mission  231 

San  Luis  Rey  Mission  — 

model  of  172 

general  view  of  235 

Sanchez,  Father  Francisco  de  Jesus  133 

Sandham,  Henry  — 

as  he  appeared  when  in  California  with  Mrs. 

Jackson  234 

taken  a  short  time  prior  to  his  death  242 

Santa  Barbara  Mission  — 

corridor  147 

"  Death  Bell  "  255 

door  leading  to  graveyard  150 

Fathers  and  lay  brothers  141 

Graveyard  151 

Mission  building,  front  view  127 

Mission  building,  side  view  129 

*                  INDEX   TO   ILLUSTRATIONS  * 


Santa  Barbara  Mission — 

priests*  garden  137 

view  from  Mission  tower  140 

Seven  Falls  64 

Sheep-Shearers  243 

Sheep-Skin  Chart  Showing  Deposit  of  Gold  Plate 

of  San  Fernando  Mission  121 

Shepherd  Dogs  209 

Statuary  Work  of  Seiiora  de  Coronel  165 
Table  Used  by  Mrs.  Jackson  when  in  Los  Angeles     194 

Temple,  Sam  159,  164 

Tripp,  Justice  of  the  Peace  164 

Ubach,  Father  Anthony  155 
Verandas  at  Camulos — 

south,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  198 

west,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  208 

on  inner  court,  as  it  appeared  in  1913  203 

south  38 

raised  part  of  south  47 

guitar  player  on  46 

Walnut  tree  213 

Wells,  Justice  of  the  Peace  164 

Willows  at  Camulos — 

as  they  appeared  at  time  of  Mrs.  Jackson's 

visit  39 

as  they  appeared  in  1913  198 

Window  with  Woman,  Camulos  104 

Winery  at  Camulos  203 

Yndart,  Blanca  35 

Yute  Pass  73 


(H.  H.) 


THE  life  of  the  author  of  "Ramona" 
might  easily  have  been  one  long,  glad- 
some summer  day,  the  opposite  of  what 
to  the  world  it  ever  seemed  to  be.  Her  earlier 
verse,  as  well  as  prose,  may  have  reflected  the 
sadness  of  younger  years,  but  her  Christian 
spirit  and  her  artistic  temperament  finally  en- 
abled her  to  overcome  a  quite  natural  tendency 
to  grieve  over  a  fate  none  too  kind,  enabling  her 
to  enjoy  to  the  full  God's  manifold  blessings. 

Left  an  orphan  at  twelve,  bereft  of  her  first 
husband  after  a  decade  of  perfect  wedded  bliss, 
her  only  child  taken  from  her  two  years  later, 
and  in  the  last  fifteen  months  of  her  own  life 
an  almost  helpless  cripple,  it  is  scarcely  less 
than  marvelous  that  she  should  ever  wear  that 
sweetest  smile,  that  her  eyes  ever  again  should 
twinkle  with  the  merriment  they  bespoke. 

"  I  am  astonished  when  I  review  my  mercies, 


and  really  feel  as  if  all  must  have  been  ar- 
ranged for  my  comfortable  and  respectable 
dying."  Thus  she  wrote  on  her  death-bed, 
from  which  also  emanated  some  of  the  most 
cheerful  verses  ever  credited  to  her  pen. 

The  personality  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  was 
unique  and  fascinating.  She  was  born  and 
reared  within  the  town  of  Amherst,  Massachu- 
setts. Her  parents  were  Calvinistic,  possessed 
of  but  a  narrow  vision  of  the  world  and  un- 
alterable standards  of  right  and  wrong;  of  that 
old  class  of  religionists  who  commence  on  Satur- 
day to  prepare  a  sour  and  serious  mien  for 

Her  father  was  Nathan  Wiley  Fiske,  pro- 
fessor of  philosophy  at  Amherst  College. 

Helen  was  born  with  an  irresistible  and  irre- 
pressible passion  for  nature.  From  her  earli- 
est childhood  she  was  wont  to  steal  away  to 
the  silence  and  solitude  of  the  woods  and  fields. 
She  yielded  to  the  call  of  the  wild.  She  was 
adventurous  and  prone  to  exploration.  Her 
sentiments  were  vivacious  and  enlivening.  Her 
nature  was  sympathetic  and  pliable.  She  loved 
ardently,  but  she  could  hate  with  satanic  ear- 

She  displayed  a  keen  sense  of  humor.  She 
was  brilliantly  witty.  She  was  an  iconoclast: 


Taken  in  Los  Angeles,  1884,  a  few  months  prior  to  her  death. 

From  painting  by  A.  F.  Harmer,  Los  Angeles,  1883. 


forms,  ceremonies  and  customs  were  not  laws 
to  her. 

From  her  first  husband  she  bore  the  name 
of  Hunt.  Her  early  nom  de  plume  was  "  H. 
H." — Helen  Hunt.  Then  from  her  second  mar- 
riage came  the  added  name  of  Jackson. 

She  was  of  the  blonde  type.  Her  eyes  were 
gray.  In  stature  she  was  small,  gaining  flesh 
in  later  years. 

Her  personality  was  irresistibly  charming. 
She  dressed  daintily  and  neatly.  Her  attire, 
like  her  manners,  had  its  individuality. 

Colonel  Higginson  wrote  of  her:  "To  those 
who  knew  her  best  she  was  a  person  quite 
unique  and  utterly  inexhaustible.  She  did  not 
belong  to  a  class,  she  left  behind  her  no  second, 
and  neither  memory  nor  fancy  can  restore  her 
as  she  was,  or  fully  reproduce,  even  for  those 
who  knew  her  best,  that  ardent  and  joyous 

At  forty-two,  after  a  decade  of  widowhood, 
she  was  driven  to  Colorado  for  relief  from 
throat  trouble,  and  took  up  her  residence  at 
Colorado  Springs — "City  of  Eternal  Sun- 
shine"— destined  to  be  her  home  to  the  end 
of  her  days.  Colorado  was  good  to  her  in 
every  way.  It  gave  to  her  renewed  health. 
It  provided  a  climate  exactly  adjusted  to  her 



requirements.  It  furnished  an  environment  of 
mountain  and  plain  and  canon  that  to  her  was 
a  perennial  delight.  And  it  gave  to  her  a  hus- 
band, in  the  person  of  William  Sharpless  Jack- 
son, ever  congenial  and  worshipful,  of  whom 
any  woman  in  the  land  might  well  feel  proud. 
It  also  gave  to  her  a  home  of  inviting  ease 
and  luxury,  the  first  real  home  the  devoted 
woman  ever  had  possessed. 

Unfortunately  these  well-earned  blessings 
came  all  too  late.  Mr.  Jackson  was  a  banker, 
financier,  promoter,  railway  manager  and  man 
of  affairs  generally,  with  abundant  longing  for 
domestic  enjoyment,  yet  with  little  leisure  for 
its  indulgence,  while  at  the  same  time  his 
talented  consort,  her  soul  stirred  to  its  pro- 
foundest  depths  in  the  pursuit  of  a  life's  mis- 
sion, was  too  much  engrossed  with  its  exactions 
to  enjoy  to  the  full,  as  otherwise  she  would 
have  done,  the  comforts  and  the  luxuries  un- 
limited wealth  provided  in  such  lavishness. 

Never  before  had  Mrs.  Jackson  been  free  to 
spend  money  without  considering  the  effect 
upon  the  domestic  exchequer.  Now  her  great- 
est enjoyment  was  in  ministering  to  the  sick 
and  the  afflicted,  in  providing  for  the  wants  of 
the  needy,  in  relieving  the  ills  of  the  unfortu- 
nate. This  labor  of  love,  together  with  her 


pen  work,  almost  completely  monopolized  her 
time,  and  left  little  leisure  for  what  are  known 
distinctively  as  social  duties  and  pleasures. 

Her  most  prized  diversion  consisted  of  walks 
and  rides  through  the  near-by  canons  and  over 
the  mountains;  Cheyenne  Mountain  ever  pre- 
ferred; it  was  a  trifle  more  remote,  not  nearly 
so  accessible,  hence  much  more  exclusive,  than 
other  local  attractions,  albeit  less  frequented; 
circumstances  that  doubtless  lent  added  zest  to 
her  ofttimes  solitary  excursions. 

It  was  to  Cheyenne  Mountain  that  Mrs. 
Jackson  wrote  this  apotheosis: 

"  By  easy  slope  to  west  as  if  it  had 
No  thought,  when  first  its  soaring  was  begun, 
Except  to  look  devoutly  to  the  sun. 
It  rises  and  has  risen,  until  glad, 
With  light  as  with  a  garment,  it  is  clad, 
Each  dawn,  before  the  tardy  plains  have  won 
One  ray;  and  after  day  has  long  been  done 
For  us,  the  light  doth  cling  reluctant, 
Sad  to  leave  its  brow. 

Beloved  mountain,  I 

Thy  worshiper  as  thou  the  sun's,  each  morn 
My  dawn,  before  the  dawn,  receive  from  thee; 
And  think,  as  thy  rose-tinted  peaks  I  see, 



That  thou  wcrt  great  when  Homer  was  not 

And  ere  thou  change  all  human  song  shall  die!  " 

A  ranchman  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain, 
near  Seven  Falls,  cared  for  a  burro  belonging 
to  Mrs.  Jackson,  and  one  of  the  greatest  of  her 
privileges  consisted  in  riding  this  sure-footed, 
faithful  beast  up  and  down  the  canon  upon  a 
summer  afternoon. 

"  Mrs.  Jackson's  Garden  "  is  a  name  that  yet 
attaches  to  a  particular  nook  in  Cheyenne 
Canon,  conspicuous  for  its  wealth  of  wild 
flowers,  which  were  especially  dear  to  her. 

Writing  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  domestic  life  at 
Colorado  Springs,  Susan  Coolidge  says:  "It 
is  not  speaking  too  strongly  to  say  that  she 
reveled  in  it.  Such  a  housekeeper  as  she  grew  to 
be  is  rarely  seen.  The  spell  of  her  enthusiasm 
affected  her  very  servants.  They  were  as  much 
interested  in  her  experiments  and  devices  as  her- 
self, and  even  prouder  of  her  successes.  Colo- 
rado is  a  paradise  for  flower-lovers.  From 
earliest  spring  to  late  autumn  the  ravines,  the 
mountain  sides  and  the  mesas  furnish  a  succes- 
sion of  delights. .  The  wide-eyed  anemones,  fair 
as  those  which  star  the  Boboli  Gardens,  give 
place  in  turn  to  the  stately  pentstemons,  purple, 



pink  and  scarlet,  royal  yuccas,  and  yellow 
columbines  with  spikes  seven  feet  high,  thickets 
of  white  and  crimson  roses,  Mariposa  lilies, 
painter's  brush,  its  lips  dyed  with  fire.  There 
is  no  interval.  It  is  like  a  procession  from  fairy- 
land. Colonel  Higginson,  in  his  interesting 
paper  on  Mrs.  Jackson,  speaks  of  her  as  once 
welcoming  a  friend  with  more  than  twenty  dif- 
ferent vases  of  magnificent  wild  flowers,  each 
vase  filled  with  a  great  sheaf  of  a  single  species. 
I  can  well  believe  it.  Her  writing-desk  and  her 
picture  frames  were  always  wreathed  with  the 
kinnikinnick  vine,  of  which  she  was  so  fond, 
and  which  in  leaf  and  fruitage  is  like  a  glori- 
fied cranberry.  Add  a  snapping  fire  of  pifion 
logs  for  cold  days,  wolf  and  fox  skins  on  the 
polished  floors — all  the  gatherings  of  her  life — 
little  treasures  brought  from  foreign  countries, 
curious  china,  plaster  casts,  sketches  and  water- 
colors,  many  of  them  the  gift  of  their  artists, 
books  innumerable,  all  combined  and  arranged 
with  her  inimitable  gift  of  taste,  and  it  is  easy 
to  imagine  the  charm  of  the  effect.  It  was 
truly  a  delightful  home.  Her  little  dinners  were 
particularly  pleasant,  and  her  devices  for  adorn- 
ing her  table  as  inexhaustible  as  original.  I 
remember  a  wreath  of  pansies  of  all  colors  ar- 
ranged in  narrow  tins  half  an  inch  high  and 



curving  in  shape,  so  as  to  form  a  garland  around 
the  whole  table,  and  her  saying  that  it  took 
exactly  four  hundred  and  sixty-three  pansies 
to  fill  them." 

I  enjoyed  the  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Jackson 
during  almost  the  entire  period  of  her  resi- 
dence at  Colorado  Springs,  though  never  a 
house  guest,  nor  did  I  ever  enjoy  the  privilege 
of  protracted  companionship  with  her.  So 
highly  prized  was  the  privilege  of  acquaintance 
that  no  business  or  other  consideration  was  ever 
permitted  to  interfere  when  opportunity  of- 
fered for  meeting  her  at  her  home  or  else- 
where; and  such  opportunities  were  quite 

The  acquaintance  began  in  Colorado  before 
her  marriage  to  Mr.  Jackson,  and  continued  to 
the  end.  I  met  her  at  various  times  in  Denver, 
Manitou  and  Colorado  Springs,  and  at  her  ideal 
home  in  the  latter  city  was  a  frequent  visitor 
from  about  1876  to  the  date  of  her  death,  al- 
though much  of  the  time  she  was  absent  in 
New  York,  Washington  and  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia, in  pursuit  of  a  mission  that  obsessed 

The  Indian  question  was  ever  uppermost  in 
her  mind,  and  it  is  questionable  if  any  other 
topic  introduced,  upon  the  occasion  of  those 



visits  to  her  home,  engaged  her  serious  thought 
or  attention. 

Local  conditions  seemed  to  conspire  against 
her,  and  in  view  of  them  it  is  not  re- 
markable that  Mrs.  Jackson  should  have  been 
deprived  of  the  sympathy  and  support  of  her 
friends  and  neighbors.  She  was  scarcely  lo- 
cated in  Colorado  when  the  citizen  soldiery  of 
the  capital  was  called  out  to  defend  it  from 
anticipated  attacks  by  the  Arapahoes  and  Chey- 
ennes.  In  1879  occurred  the  Thornberg  mas- 
sacre, the  murder  of  Agent  Meeker  and  the 
capture  of  his  wife  and  daughter  by  Chief 
Ouray's  band  of  Utes,  events  that  agitated  the 
Territory  and  the  State  as  nothing  before  or 
since  has  done. 

Sympathy  with  her  at  the  time  was  not  to 
be  expected;  but  interest  in  her  work,  and  in 
the  enthusiasm  displayed  in  it,  was  simply  im- 
pelling. She  wouldn't  let  us  talk  about  any- 
thing else.  Her  relation  of  experiences  among 
the  Mission  Indians  of  California  was  of  thrill- 
ing interest,  albeit  comprehension  of  the  import 
of  it  all  was  not  easy. 

Of  far  greater  concern  to  me  was  the  an- 
nounced purpose  of  Mrs.  Jackson  to  tell  the 
story  in  the  form  of  a  romance.  This  was  in 
1883,  after  her  return  from  California.  That  at 



once  appealed  to  my  imagination,  and  I  readily 
recalled  the  outline  she  gave  of  it  when,  a  few 
years  later,  I  came  to  Southern  California  and 
became  acquainted  with  a  number  of  its  real 

My  wife  had  for  more  than  a  year  been  a 
member  of  the  household  of  the  eldest  son  of 
the  mistress  of  Camulos  ranch — Ramona's  home 
—Ex-State  Senator  R.  F.  del  Valle,  and  well 
knew  his  mother,  Dona  Ysabel  del  Valle,  his 
sister,  Mrs.  Josefa  Forster,  and  two  brothers, 
Ignacio  and  Ulpiano.  She  had,  indeed,  been 
present  at  the  birth  of  Lucretia  Louise  del 
Valle,  at  this  writing  just  returned  with  her  dis- 
tinguished father,  Senator  del  Valle,  from  a 
mission  of  peace  to  the  warring  factions  in  Old 
Mexico,  sent  as  the  special  representative  of 
the  Secretary  of  State,  W.  J.  Bryan.  She  not 
only  knew  these  personages  most  intimately, 
but  had  spent  varying  periods  at  Camulos  ranch, 
and  every  scene  there  recalling  Ramona  and 
Alessandro  was  familiar  to  her.  Dona  Mariana 
de  Coronel,  the  intimate  friend  of  Mrs.  Jack- 
son, also  was  an  old  acquaintance.  Hence  my 
interest  in  "  Ramona "  became  especially  en- 

Unfortunately,  I  did  not  at  the  time  share  in 
Mrs.  Jackson's  sympathy  for  the  Indian  to  any 



great  extent,  nor  did  I  possess  the  clarity  of 
vision  essential  to  a  correct  understanding  of 
the  Indian  question,  as  it  presented  itself  to  her. 
As  stated  in  the  body  of  this  volume,  Mrs.  Jack- 
son enjoyed  something  of  a  monopoly  of  her 
views,  and  was  quite  without  a  genuine  sym- 
pathizer with  her  work  in  the  entire  State  of 
Colorado.  My  ignorance  of  the  real  merits  of 
the  controversy  was  neither  greater  nor  less 
than  that  entertained  by  the  average  citizen. 
Mrs.  Jackson  might  turn  on  ever  so  many  side- 
lights, yet  the  feeling  in  Colorado  at  the  time 
was  almost  universal  that  the  only  good  Indian 
was  the  dead  Indian. 

We  had  not  read  to  full  purpose  "  A  Century 
of  Dishonor";  we  looked  upon  Ramona  and 
Alessandro  and  Father  Salvierderra  as  beauti- 
ful characters,  but  we  didn't  look  toward  Temec- 
ula.  We  only  thought  of  the  Arapahoes  and 
Cheyennes  stealing  upon  Denver  in  the  silence 
of  night,  with  murderous  intent.  We  looked 
away  from  Pechanga.  We  harped  upon  Father 
Meeker;  but  we  never  permitted  ourselves  to 
dwell  upon  the  atrocious  outrages  committed 
and  being  committed  by  the  white  man 
on  the  Indians  all  over  the  San  Jacinto 
Mountains!  Ignorance  and  cowardice  and 
hate  had  made  savages  of  the  whites,  and 


left  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  to  fight  the  battle 

She  died  at  San  Francisco,  August  12,  1885, 
in  her  fifty-fourth  year. 

Well  may  we  marvel  at  her  courage,  her 
patience,  her  perseverance  and  her  unyielding 
zeal.  Well  may  we,  with  Susan  Coolidge, 
wonder : 

"  What  was  she  most  like?    Was  she  like  the 

Fresh  always  and  untired,  intent  to  find 

New  fields  to  penetrate,  new  heights  to  gain; 
Scattering  all  mists  with  sudden,  radiant  wing; 
Stirring  the  languid  pulses;  quickening 

The  apathetic  mood,  the  weary  brain? 

Or  was  she  like  the  sun,  whose  gift  of  cheer 
Endureth  for  all  seasons  of  the  year, 

Alike  in  winter's  cold  or  summer's  heat? 
Or  like  the  sea,  which  brings  its  gifts  from  far, 
And  still,  wherever  want  and  straitness  are, 

Lays  down  a  sudden  largess  at  their  feet? 

Or  was  she  like  a  wood,  where  light  and  shade, 
And  sound  and  silence,  mingle  unafraid; 

Where  mosses  cluster,  and,  in  coverts  dark, 
Shy  blossoms  court  the  brief  and  wandering  air, 


Mysteriously  sweet;  and  here  and  there 
A  firefly  flashes  like  a  sudden  spark? 

Or  like  a  willful  brook,  which  laughs  and  leaps 
All  unexpectedly,  and  never  keeps 

The  course  predicted,  as  it  seaward  flows? 
Or  like  a  stream-fed  river,  brimming  high? 
Or  like  a  fruit,  where  those  who  love  descry 

A  pungent  charm  no  other  flavor  knows? 

I  cannot  find  her  type;  in  her  were  blent 
Each  varied  and  each  fortunate  element 

Which   could   combine,   with   something   all 

her  own — 

Sadness  and  mirthfulness,  a  chorded  strain, 
The  tender  heart,  the  keen  and  searching  brain, 

The  social  zest,  the  power  to  live  alone. 

Comrade  of  comrades — giving  man  the  slip 
To  seek  in  Nature  truest  comradeship, 

Tenacity  and  impulse  ruled  her  fate, 
This  grasping  firmly  what  that  flashed  to  feel — 
The  velvet  scabbard  and  the  sword  of  steel, 

The  gift  to  strongly  love,  to  frankly  hate! 

Patience  as  strong  as  was  her  hopefulness; 
A  joy  in  living  which  grew  never  less 

As  years  went  on  and  age  grew  gravely  nigh; 



Visions  which  pierced  the  veiling  mists  of  pain, 
And  saw  beyond  the  mortal  shadows  plain 
The  eternal  day  dawn  broadening  in  the  sky; 

The  love  of  Doing,  and  the  scorn  of  Done; 
The  playful  fancy,  which,  like  glinting  sun, 
No   chill   could   daunt,   no   loneliness   could 


Upon  her  ardent  pulse  Death's  dullness  lies; 
Closed  the  brave  lips,  the  merry,  questioning 

She  was  herself.    There  is  not  such  another." 














THE  devotion,  vigor  and  perseverance  with 
which  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  pursued  her 
chief  mission  in  life  scarcely  have  a  paral- 
lel. Her  literary  labor  and  fame  culminated 
in  the  historical  romance  of  "  Ramona,"  the  in- 
fluence of  which  has  been  second  to  the  produc- 
tion of  but  one  other  American  purpose  writer. 
The  inspiration  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  "  and  of 
"  Ramona  "  was  identical — the  wrongs  inflicted 
by  a  superior  upon  an  inferior  race.  The  chief 
aim  of  each  was  ultimately  achieved;  the  one 
through  immeasurable  sacrifices  of  blood  and 
treasure,  the  other  through  the  peaceful  evolu- 
tion of  public  sentiment,  leading  up  to  a  revolt 
of  the  national  conscience,  and  compelling  a 
reversal  of  public  policies. 
i  It  is  not  an  extravagant  claim  that  the  hu- 
manitarian impulse  now  giving  direction  to  the 
conduct  of  Indian  affairs  by  the  Government 
had  its  genesis  largely  in  the  romantic  novel 
"  Ramona."  The  influence  of  the  woman  and 
her  work  was  not  only  immediate  but  lasting. 



It  has  come  down  to  this  day  and  hour.  The 
tragedy  of  Temecula  will  never  be  repeated. 
The  era  of  evictions  has  forever  passed.  The 
Mission  Indians  will  not  again  be  driven  from 
their  homes  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  Helen 
Hunt  Jackson's  posthumous  influence  will  con- 
tinue to  shield  them. 

On  her  death-bed  Mrs.  Jackson  said:  "I  did 
not  write  '  Ramona ' ;  it  was  written  through 
me.  My  life-blood  went  into  it — all  I  had 
thought,  felt  and  suffered  for  five  years  on 
the  Indian  question." 

Colorado,  the  home  of  the  author  of  "  Ra- 
mona," was  long  the  border  land.  Its  earlier 
citizens  suffered  greatly  at  the  hands  of  the 
Indians.  Many  now  living  remember  when 
even  the  capital  of  the  State  was  menaced 
by  roving  bands  of  murderous  Arapahoes  and 
Cheyennes.  The  Meeker  massacre  is  still  fresh 
in  the  minds  of  its  people.  The  treachery  of 
the  Utes  may  never  be  forgotten.  But  the 
prejudices  of  two  generations,  there  and  else- 
where, should  give  way  to  the  fact  that  the 
Mission  Indians  of  California  belong  to  a  differ- 
ent category:  that  they  are  peaceful,  industrious 
and  frugal;  that  they  worship  the  white  man's 
God,  and  endeavor,  with  a  meager  equipment, 
to  raise  themselves  to  his  plane  of  civilization. 



Intimate  friend  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  and  who,  with  his 
wife,  gave  Mrs.  Jackson  the  material  from  which  was  written 
the  story  of  "  Ramona."  "  He  is  sixty-five  years  of  age,  but  he 
is  young;  the  best  waltzer  in  Los  Angeles  *  *  *;  his  eye  keen, 
his  blood  fiery  quick;  his  memory  like  a  burning-glass."  (Mrs. 
Jackson  in  " Glimpses  of  California  and  the  Afissions") 

Wife  of  Don  Antonio  dc  CoroncI,  the  intimate  friend  of  Mrs. 


Some  of  them  loved  their  homes  so  well  that 
they  suffered  death  within  them  in  stoic  prefer- 
ence to  going  out  into  the  world  in  search  of 
others.  Not  a  few  so  died  as  martyrs  to 
boasted  American  civilization! 

It  was  Helen  Hunt  Jackson's  purpose  to  tell 
the  whole  pitiful  story.  It  was  her  desire  to 
paint  it  in  its  true  colors  in  an  appendix  to  her 
"  A  Century  of  Dishonor,"  but  she  was  per- 
suaded that  it  was  the  better  plan  to  clothe  it 
first  in  the  presumably  more  attractive  garb  of 
romance,  and  then  to  follow  with  other  works 
of  a  more  historical  character  after  the  ear  of 
the  public  should  be  secured.  This  was  the  sage 
advice  of  Don  Antonio  Francisco  de  Coronel 
and  his  wife  Dona  Mariana,  living  at  Los 
Angeles ;  although  these  staunch  friends  did  not 
begin  to  realize  the  enormous  sale  which  the 
initial  story  was  destined  to  reach,  the  far- 
reaching  influence  it  was  to  exert. 

In  November,  1883,  after  her  return  from 
California  to  Colorado  Springs,  Mrs.  Jackson 
wrote  to  her  dear  friends,  Sefior  and  Sefiora  de 
Coronel:  "  I  am  going  to  write  a  novel,  in  which 
will  be  set  forth  some  Indian  experiences  to 
move  people's  hearts.  People  will  read  a  novel 
when  they  will  not  read  serious  books." 

Nor  does  popular  interest  seem  to  decrease 



with  the  lapse  of  time.  The  public  library  of 
Los  Angeles  now  owns  one  hundred  and  five 
volumes  of  "  Ramona,"  yet  one  can  secure  a 
copy  only  by  means  of  a  reservation  and  a 
long  wait.  It  would  seem  that  at  least  nine  of 
every  ten  tourists  read  the  story.  Thousands 
of  them  visit  the  San  Diego,  the  San  Luis  Rey, 
and  the  Santa  Barbara  Missions  every  season, 
confessedly  because  of  the  association  with 
them  of  Ramona  and  Alessandro;  and  all  esteem 
it  a  privilege  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Camulos, 
as  the  trains  of  the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad 
pass  through  the  hallowed  spot. 

In  the  Coronel  Collection  at  the  Chamber  of 
Commerce  in  Los  Angeles  is  a  portrait  of  Helen 
Hunt  Jackson  in  oil,  about  7  by  12,  by  Alex- 
ander F.  Harmer;  and  beneath  it  is  the  little 
mahogany  table  on  which  Mrs.  Jackson  did 
much  of  her  magazine  work  while  in  California. 
This  table  was  made  especially  to  her  order, 
that  she  might  write  while  in  a  reclining  posi- 
tion, and  under  the  personal  supervision  of  Don 
Antonio  de  Coronel. 

But  the  world,  outside  of  Southern  California, 
knows  little  of  the  Coronels,  the  relation  of 
the  author  of  "  Ramona  "  to  them,  or  the  rea- 
son for  displaying  the  portrait  and  the  table 
with  this  particular  collection  of  curios.  Few 



indeed  know  that  nearly  all  of  the  characters 
in  the  story  were  living  persons  idealized,  that 
some  of  them  are  living  to-day,  or  that  the 
famous  jewels,  most  unlikely  incident  of  the 
plot,  are  still  in  the  possession  of  the  woman 
who  most  likely  suggested  to  Mrs.  Jackson  the 
character  of  Ramona. 

These  facts  and  incidents  constitute  most  in- 
teresting sidelights.  The  truth  will  be  found 
to  be,  as  so  often  it  is,  stranger  than  fiction. 
It  is  here  first  given,  only  once  removed  from 
the  lips  of  the  living  actors. 




THE  inception  and  development  of  "  Ra- 
mona  "  is  in  itself  a  story  of  more  than 
ordinary  interest.    It  was  the  product  of 
a  peculiar  and  fortunate   combination   of  cir- 
cumstances and  events,  a  happy  mingling  of 
realism  and  romance,   the  timely   meeting   of 
design  with  chance. 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson  came  to  Southern  Cali- 
fornia in  1 88 1,  with  a  purpose  not  too  well 
defined.  She  had  been  commissioned  by  the 
Century  Company  "to  write  something  about 
the  Mission  Indians."  It  would  have  been  an 
easy  matter  for  her,  and  without  leaving  com- 
fortable apartments  in  a  hotel,  to  have  prepared 
an  interesting  series  of  articles  on  the  prolific 
theme,  and  her  publishers  would  doubtless  have 
been  satisfied;  but  she  was  directed  to  higher 
and  greater  achievements  by  influences  not 
reckoned  with  by  her  or  those  whom  she  repre- 
sented. The  inspiration  may  have  been  heaven- 
sent, but  the  instrumentalities  that  proved  most 
potent  were  human,  tangible,  real. 


The  conditions  were  ripe  for  her  mission; 
indeed,  they  were  waiting  for  her.  To  the 
task  of  harvesting  the  matured  fruit  she 
brought  a  rare  equipment.  If  events  and  cir- 
cumstances were  favorable,  a  less  earnest,  a 
less  receptive,  a  less  impressionable  person 
might  easily  have  failed  to  recognize  their  sig- 

She  brought  a  letter  to  Bishop  Francisco 
Mora  of  the  Los  Angeles  diocese.  He  gave  her 
a  cordial  welcome  and  pointed  the  way.  Don 
Antonio  Francisco  de  Coronel,  he  assured  her, 
was  the  traditional  friend  of  the  Indian  in 
these  parts,  and  to  him  and  his  noble  wife 
she  was  sent  with  a  suitable  letter  of  intro- 

The  Coronel  rancho  consisted  of  seventy-five 
acres  of  fruitful  land  lying  in  the  valley  of  the 
Los  Angeles  River,  on  the  southern  outskirts 
of  the  city,  and  was  covered  with  a  noble 
growth  of  citrus  and  deciduous  fruit  trees.  In 
the  center  of  the  tract  was  the  hacienda,  for 
decades  a  conspicuous  landmark.  It  was  a 
typical  Spanish  adobe  house,  with  projecting 
tile  roof  and  broad  verandas  opening  upon 
the  proverbial  "  court."  It  contained  thirteen 
large  rooms,  more  than  sufficient  for  the  needs 
of  its  two  occupants,  the  old  Don  and  his  young 



wife;  but  Spanish  hospitality  took  into  account 
the  necessity  of  providing  accommodations  for 
all  comers,  and  it  is  not  likely  the  hacienda  was 
ever  found  to  be  too  large. 

The  rancho  was  a  gift  to  the  Don's  father 
from  the  Mexican  government,  in  considera- 
tion of  distinguished  services  in  the  field,  the 
grant  dating  back  to  the  early  30*3.  It  de- 
scended to  Don  Antonio,  who  came  upon  the 
stage  of  action  in  time  to  be  of  service  in 
opposing  American  aggression.  He,  indeed, 
had  been  singled  out  for  the  distinction  of 
conveying  to  the  Mexican  capital  the  flags 
captured  in  various  engagements  with  the  in- 
vaders, nearly  losing  his  life  in  carrying  out 
his  mission. 

The  rancho  was  still  intact  upon  the  occa- 
sion of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson's  first  visit,  1881, 
but  the  subsequent  growth  of  Los  Angeles  has 
completely  obliterated  all  of  the  ancient  bound- 
ary lines.  Railroads  cross  and  recross  it, 
streets  have  been  cut  through,  monster  depots 
and  factories  built,  residences  erected  and  the 
once  pastoral  quiet  of  the  locality  has  forever 
departed.  The  famous  adobe  dwelling  itself, 
still  retaining  its  original  proportions,  but  fast 
going  to  decay,  stands  within  the  inclosure  of 
a  mammoth  cracker  factory  near  the  corner  of 



Central  Avenue  and  Seventh  Street,  and  is  now 
used  for  storing  merchandise. 

On  her  first  visit  to  the  historic  hacienda 
amidst  the  orange  trees,  Mrs.  Jackson  met  a 
cordial  reception  at  the  hands  of  Don  Antonio 
and  Dona  Mariana,  not  because  of  her  dis- 
tinction or  her  worth,  but  because  she  bore  a 
letter  from  the  Bishop.  They  had  never  before 
heard  the  name  of  their  guest.  They  had  not 
been  blessed  with  offspring,  and  had  never  read 
her  "Bits  of  Talk"  for  young  folks.  They 
had  felt  the  omnipotence  of  perfect,  patient  love, 
but  not  from  reading  her  story  of  "Zeph." 
They  knew,  for  it  had  come  home  to  them  as 
to  few  others,  about  "  A  Century  of  Dishonor," 
though  they  had  never  seen  the  book.  They 
had  been  fighting  the  battles  of  the  Indians  for 
many  years,  in  the  most  practical  and  helpful 
way,  without  the  aid  of  allies  beyond  the  moun- 
tains, without  knowledge  of  the  devoted  work 
being  done  in  other  portions  of  the  vineyard 
by  the  Helen  Hunts  and  their  colleagues  else- 

In  the  old  and  happy  days  of  Church  domina- 
tion and  priestly  rule  there  had  been  no  "In- 
dian question."  That  came  only  after  Ameri- 
can "  civilization  "  took  from  the  red  men  their 
lands  and  gave  them  nothing  in  return.  It 


ministered  neither  to  their  spiritual,  intellec- 
tual nor  physical  needs.  It  neither  helped 
them  nor  permitted  them  to  help  themselves. 
It  simply  abandoned  them  to  their  fate.  In 
struggling  with  this  they  ever  counted  upon  the 
sympathy,  the  advice  and  the  material  aid  of 
Don  Antonio  and  his  tender-hearted  wife, 

The  situation  had  reached  a  critical  stage 
when  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  appeared  on  the 
scene.  The  statement  of  her  mission  and  the 
proffer  of  her  assistance  at  once  won  the  hearts 
of  Don  Antonio  and  Dona  Mariana.  The  mu- 
tual confidence  early  established  soon  developed 
into  friendship  and  ripened  into  love;  and  the 
last  meeting  of  the  trio  was  quite  as  pathetic 
as  was  the  first.  Dona  Mariana  was  very  ill, 
and  believed  she  was  on  her  death-bed.  Helen 
Hunt  Jackson  had  responded  to  a  summons, 
and  the  speedy  rally  of  the  patient  was  doubt- 
less largely  due  to  her  visit.  "  You  are  going 
to  get  well,  Mariana,"  said  Mrs.  Jackson. 
"  You  will  survive  me.  I  feel  that  you  will 
live  to  complete  my  work."  Only  a  few  weeks 
later  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  was  among  the  blest. 

A  touching  tribute  to  the  affection  between 
Mrs.  Jackson  and  Sefior  de  Coronel  is  her  own 
statement  in  a  letter  from  her  at  San  Fran- 


To  whom  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  brought  a  letter  of  introduction 
and  who  introduced  her  to  the  Coronels. 


Mexican  woman,  flitting  about  among  the 
plants,  or  sporting  with  a  superb  Saint  Bernard 
dog.  Her  clear  olive  skin,  soft  brown  eyes, 
delicate  sensitive  nostrils,  and  broad  smiling 
mouth,  are  all  of  the  Spanish  Madonna  type; 
and  when  her  low  brow  is  bound,  as  is  often  her 
wont,  by  turban  folds  of  soft  brown  or  green 
gauze,  her  face  becomes  a  picture  indeed.  She 
is  the  young  wife  of  a  gray-headed  Mexican 
senor,  of  whom — by  his  own  gracious  permis- 
sion— I  shall  speak  by  his  familiar  name,  Don 

"  Whoever  has  the  fortune  to  pass  as  a  friend 
across  the  threshold  of  this  house  finds  himself 
transported,  as  by  a  miracle,  into  the  life  of 
a  half-century  ago.  The  rooms  are  ornamented 
with  fans,  shells,  feather  and  wax  flowers,  pic- 
tures, saints'  images,  old  laces,  and  stuffs,  in  the 
quaint  gay  Mexican  fashion.  On  the  day  when 
I  first  saw  them,  they  were  brilliant  with  bloom. 
In  every  one  of  the  deep  window-seats  stood  a 
cone  of  bright  flowers,  its  base  made  by  large 
white  datura  blossoms,  their  creamy  whorls  all 
turned  outward,  making  a  superb  decoration. 
I  went  for  but  a  few  moments'  call.  I  stayed 
three  hours,  and  left  carrying  with  me  be- 
wildering treasures  of  pictures  of  the  olden 




AT  her  initial  interview  with  the  Coronels 
little  more  was  accomplished  than  the 
establishment  of  confidence.  A  second 
conference  was  arranged  for  the  following 
week.  It  happened  to  be  Christmas  day,  1881, 
a  circumstance  that  appealed  to  Helen  Hunt 
Jackson  only  after  her  arrival  at  the  hacienda, 
so  absorbed  was  she  in  other  thoughts.  Don 
Antonio,  Dona  Mariana  and  their  guest  were 
seated  upon  the  broad  veranda,  the  latter  in- 
tent upon  the  details  of  her  hosts'  relation  of 
Indian  history  and  Indian  wrongs,  when  the 
conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance 
in  the  yard  of  five  mounted  men,  evidently  in 
great  mental  perturbation. 

"More  trouble,"  quietly  suggested  the  Don, 
accustomed  to  such  visitations.  "  But  it  must 
be  unusually  serious,  for  these  are  all  chiefs  of 
their  tribes,  and  their  ponies  indicate  that  they 
have  been  ridden  a  long  distance  and  very  fast. 



Excuse  me  for  a  moment  while  I  try  to  discover 
what  it  means." 

The  interview  between  the  Don  and  the  In- 
dians was  very  animated,  all  talking  at  once. 
Mrs.  Jackson  soon  became  as  excited  as  were 
the  Indians.  She  could  not  understand  their 
language,  it  being  a  mixture  of  Spanish  with 
the  tribal  dialect;  but  their  voices  and  manner 
indicated  the  deepest  distress,  and  it  was  not 
difficult  to  perceive  the  import  of  their  mission. 
It  soon  developed  that  the  water  rights  to  their 
lands,  without  which  they  were  valueless,  had 
been  sold  to  a  syndicate  of  white  men;  and 
these  chiefs  had  come,  as  so  often  before,  for 
counsel  from  Sefior  and  Sefiora  de  Coronel. 

On  three  distinct  occasions  had  the  life  of 
Don  Antonio  been  saved  by  the  timely  interces- 
sion of  Mission  Indians.  The  bond  between 
them  was  indissoluble.  The  Don  was  their 
"  padre,"  and  Dona  Mariana  was  in  their  sight 
little  less  than  a  saint. 

Mrs.  Jackson  begged  the  privilege  of  talk- 
ing with  the  chiefs,  and,  with  the  help  of  her 
friends  in  interpreting,  she  was  soon  established 
in  their  confidence.  The  inspiration  at  that 
moment  seized  her  of  visiting  their  villages, 
and  the  foundation  was  laid  for  securing,  as  she 
might  in  no  other  way,  the  fullest  confirmation 



"  The  white  linen  altar  cloth,  the  cloth  which  the  Senora 
Moreno  had  with  her  own  hands  made  into  one  solid  front 
of  beautiful  lace  of  the  Mexican  fashion  *  *  *  lay  torn." 
"  Kamona." 


of  all  that  had  been  told  her  prior  to  their  visit. 
This  was  most  pleasing  to  Don  Antonio  and 
Dona  Mariana,  and  the  incident  was  regarded 
as  fortunate;  for  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  was  as- 
sured of  a  welcome  in  the  Indian  settlements 
such  as  otherwise  might  not  have  been  ac- 
corded her,  and  of  knowledge  that  could  be 
acquired  by  no  other  means. 

The  details  of  the  journey  were  soon  ar- 
ranged. It  included  a  long  and  wearisome  ride 
over  the  mountains  to  the  Indian  settlements, 
with  a  side  trip  of  observation  to  Camulos 
ranch,  which  the  Coronels  desired  her  to  visit, 
that  she  might  get  a  better  idea  of  a  typical 
Spanish  abode,  and  because  its  occupants  were 
not  only  zealous  children  of  the  Church,  but 
traditional  friends  of  the  Indians  as  well.  The 
Coronels  assured  Mrs.  Jackson  that  Camulos 
ranch  was  one  of  the  few  remaining  of  the  old 
Spanish  homesteads  where  the  original  of  a 
California  hacienda  still  existed. 

The  "  Century's  "  artist,  the  late  Mr.  Henry 
Sandham,  and  Mr.  Abbot  Kinney  accompanied 
her  on  this  journey.  The  owner  and  driver  of 
the  carriage  in  which  they  first  rode  was  Mr. 
N.  H.  Mitchell,  then  conducting  a  livery  stable 
at  Anaheim,  California,  and  now  residing  in 
Los  Angeles. 



It  is  not  the  purpose  to  follow  Mrs.  Jackson 
in  her  wanderings  over  the  San  Jacinto  moun- 
tains. The  details  have  been  recorded  in  re- 
ports to  the  Government,  published  as  an  ap- 
pendix to  the  second  edition  of  "  A  Century  of 
Dishonor."  It  is  enough  here  to  say  that  the 
name  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  is  to  this  day 
revered  in  the  abode  of  every  Mission  In- 
dian, and  that,  were  it  in  the  power  of 
these  grateful  people,  it  would  long  ago 
have  been  placed  in  the  Church  calendar  of 

Judged  by  the  accuracy  of  her  description  of 
Camulos,  it  is  likely  the  pictures  she  drew  of 
Indian  life  were  faithful  and  conscientious. 
She  was  at  the  ranch  but  a  few  hours,  a  cir- 
cumstance which  makes  her  portrayal  of  it  all 
the  more  remarkable.  In  the  short  time  she 
not  only  observed  every  detail  of  situation  and 
environment,  but  while  there  evolved  the  chief 
incidents  of  the  story. 

"  It  was  sheep-shearing  time  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia." The  Indians  from  over  the  mountains 
were  there.  All  of  the  preparations  described 
in  the  opening  chapters  of  "  Ramona  "  had  been 
made.  Father  Salvierderra  had  come  down 
from  the  Santa  Barbara  Mission.  The  matin 
songs  had  echoed  through  the  court.  Mass  had 



been  said  in  the  little  chapel  in  the  orange 
grove.  The  altar  cloth,  made  originally  from 
Dona  Ysabel  del  Valle's  wedding  gown,  was 
spotless  in  its  whiteness;  but  to  the  discerning 
eye  disclosed  a  patch;  for  Helen  Hunt  Jack- 
son saw  it,  and  every  visitor  there  since  has 
seen  it,  although  it  is  probable  that  on  that  par- 
ticular day  its  existence  was  unknown  even 
to  Sefiora  del  Valle,  the  widowed  mistress  of 
Camulos.  That  dear,  sweet  soul,  had  been  oc- 
cupied with  manifold  household  duties,  and 
may  not  have  been  as  observant  of  the  smaller 
details  as  was  her  guest.  However  that  may 
be,  the  patch  was  an  inspiration,  and  provided 
the  material  for  one  of  the  most  touching  inci- 
dents of  the  story. 

The  dimensions  of  the  ranch  have  since  been 
somewhat  curtailed,  from  forty-five  thousand 
to  nineteen  hundred  acres;  but  the  ranch-house, 
or  hacienda,  with  its  picturesque  environment 
and  now  historical  belongings,  survives  the 
thirty  years  that  have  since  elapsed,  without 
essential  modification  or  change.  The  visitor 
of  to-day,  stepping  from  a  Southern  Pacific  train 
into  the  precincts  of  Camulos,  will  need  to  go 
through  the  yard  where  the  shearing  was  done, 
past  the  shed  in  which  the  wool  was  stored  and 
in  the  heat  by  which  Felipe  was  overcome,  to 



reach  the  entrance  of  the  house;  for  the  rail- 
road track  is  in  the  rear  of  it. 

Once  within  the  court  every  scene  will  seem 
familiar;  the  arbor  and  the  fountain  and  the 
chapel;  the  path  leading  down  to  the  stream 
where  Ramona  washed  the  stains  from  the  altar 
cloth,  and  where  Alessandro  first  beheld  the 
wondrous  beauty  of  the  maiden;  the  porch  on 
which  the  raw-hide  bed  stood  with  its  precious 
burden,  and  where  the  lover  drew  symphonies 
from  the  violin  fetched  at  such  cost  of  effort 
by  Jose  from  Temecula  for  the  delectation  of 
Felipe,  the  invalid. 

With  the  physical  conditions  unchanged  in 
any  material  particular,  it  is  not  difficult  to 
fancy  the  actual  scenes  being  re-enacted.  All 
of  the  influences  of  earth  and  air,  of  sheen  and 
shadow,  of  restless  foliage,  and  laughing  waters 
of  fountain  and  stream,  combine  to  produce 
a  state  of  consciousness,  the  disturbance  of 
which  comes  necessarily  in  the  nature  of  a 



VARIOUS  considerations,  now  no  longer 
potent,  have  prompted  the  suppression 
of  the  real  facts  regarding  the  story  of 
"Ramona"  and  the  principal  characters  in  it, 
and   there   have   been   circulated   innumerable 

Most  absurd  of  the  stories  with  which  tour- 
ists are  regaled  is  the  one  that  credits  the 
author  with  having  been  bribed  to  write  it  by 
interested  parties  for  political  effect,  and  that 
the  $10,000  thus  earned  were  used  in  setting  up 
her  husband  in  business.  An  equally  absurd 
yarn  that  has  found  believers  of  a  certain  class, 
credited  the  authorship  of  the  story  to  an 
unfrocked  priest,  whose  nearly  completed  manu- 
script was  appropriated  by  Helen  Hunt  Jackson. 
A  brochure  that  originated  in  Los  Angeles,  and 
which  has  reached  a  large  sale,  contains  a  half- 
tone from  a  photograph  of  an  Indian  woman 



living  near  San  Jacinto,  which  the  author  claims 
is  "the  real  Ramona."  There  is  scarcely  a 
settlement  south  of  the  Tehachapi  that  is  not 
pointed  out  to  the  traveler  as  the  "  home  of 
Ramona."  She  was  married  at  every  mission 
from  San  Diego  to  San  Luis  Obispo,  if  one 
but  credits  local  legend.  The  real  facts,  until 
now  withheld,  are  related  within  these  pages. 

For  the  Sefiora  Moreno  of  the  story  there 
was  doubtless  a  hint  in  the  equally  strong,  but 
infinitely  more  lovely,  real  character  who  was 
until  1905  the  queen  of  Camulos  ranch — Dona 
Ysabel  del  Valle,  for  many  years  a  widow. 
The  property  descended  to  her  husband  from 
his  father,  to  whom  it  was  granted  before 
American  occupation,  for  meritorious  service  in 
the  Mexican  army. 

Ex-State  Senator  Reginald  F.  del  Valle,  the 
eldest  son  of  the  widowed  mistress  of  Camulos 
ranch,  may  have  suggested  to  the  novelist  the 
Felipe  of  the  story.  He  has  long  been  an 
honored  citizen  of  Los  Angeles,  a  prominent 
member  of  the  local  bar,  and  influential  in  the 
councils  of  the  Democratic  organization  in  Cali- 

Ramona  was  a  creation  of  Helen  Hunt  Jack- 
son. She  is  supposed  to  have  been  a  happy 
blending  of  two  characters  of  the  del  Valle 



As  a  child  at  Camulos,  now  Mrs.  James  McGuire,  Los  Angeles. 
"  The  one  human  document  who  may  in  truth  be  regarded  as 
'  Ramona  '  of  the  story."  Page  35- 


household — Blanca  Yndart,  a  Spanish  girl,  a 
ward  of  Seriora  del  Valle,  and  Guadalupe,  an 
Indian  girl,  given  to  the  Sefiora  when  a  child 
by  a  Piru  chief.  Blanca  was  the  only  child  of 
U.  Yndart,  a  resident  of  Santa  Barbara.  Her 
mother,  dying  when  the  child  was  five  years 
of  age,  committed  her  to  the  keeping  of  Sefiora 
del  Valle,  and  she  lived  at  Camulos  ranch  as 
one  of  the  family  until  she  was  fourteen.  Then 
her  father  took  a  second  wife,  and  Blanca  re- 
turned to  the  parental  roof,  living  there  until 
her  marriage,  four  years  later,  to  James  Ma- 
guire.  Upon  the  death  of  her  husband,  some 
years  ago,  Blanca,  with  her  two  children,  re- 
moved to  Los  Angeles,  where  she  now  resides. 
Blanca  is  the  one  human  document  who  may 
in  truth  be  regarded  as  the  Ramona  of  the 
story.  She  is  of  the  purest  Spanish  blood,  both 
father  and  mother  having  been  born  in  Castile; 
and  at  sixty  is  still  a  woman  of  exceptional 
beauty.  Her  grandfather,  Captain  Yndart,  was 
a  seafaring  man,  more  or  less  familiar  with  all 
the  navigable  waters  of  the  globe.  In  his  world 
wanderings,  covering  a  period  of  forty  years,  he 
accumulated  a  chest  of  treasures  of  surpassing 
beauty  and  worth;  and  these  are  the  "  Ramona 
jewels."  For  years  they  were  held  in  trust  by 
Sefiora  del  Valle  for  Blanca  Yndart,  when  she 



should  be  married;  and  they  are  still  in  the 
possession  of  Mrs.  Maguire.  They  consist,  in 
the  main,  of  a  large  cross  of  pearls  of  rare  purity 
and  unusual  size,  a  rosary  of  pearls,  and  a  single 
pearl,  pear-shaped,  of  extraordinary  dimensions, 
and  valued  at  several  thousand  dollars;  "tray 
after  tray  of  jewels,"  an  East  Indian  shawl  of 
texture  so  delicate  that  it  can  be  drawn  through 
an  ordinary  finger-ring;  a  number  of  dainty  ker- 
chiefs, and  other  rich  and  costly  fabrics  from 
the  Orient — "  shawls  and  ribosos  of  damask, 
laces,  gowns  of  satin,  of  velvet." 

A  daughter  of  Captain  Yndart,  who  subse- 
quently married  a  cousin  of  the  same  name, 
was  living  at  Santa  Barbara  when  the  old  sea 
captain  paid  his  last  visit  to  the  Pacific  coast. 
Having  a  presentiment  that  he  would  not  sur- 
vive another  voyage,  he  left  the  chest  of  treas- 
ures with  his  daughter,  with  instructions  as  to 
their  disposition  at  his  death.  They  were  to  be 
divided  between  his  two  grandchildren,  Blanca 
and  Pancho  Yndart,  the  latter  a  cousin  of  the 
former.  Blanca's  mother  was  delicate,  and  real- 
izing that  she  would  not  live  to  see  her  daugh- 
ter married,  she  provided  that,  at  her  death, 
Blanca  should  be  taken  into  the  del  Valle  family 
at  Camulos;  Dofia  Ysabel  del  Valle  being  her 
nearest  and  dearest  friend. 



Mrs.  Yndart,  unwilling  to  trust  others  with 
the  jewels,  herself  took  them  to  the  ranch,  and 
it  is  said  that  not  even  her  own  husband  knew 
of  their  existence.  This  was  before  the  era 
of  railroads  at  Santa  Barbara,  and  the  route 
chosen  along  the  beach  was  safe  enough  when 
the  tide  was  out,  but  a  miscalculation  was  made, 
and  in  rounding  a  promontory  between  Ventura 
and  the  Malibu  ranch,  in  water  reaching  almost 
to  the  seat  of  the  vehicle,  Mrs.  Yndart  and 
the  treasures  narrowly  escaped  being  washed 
into  the  sea. 

Upon  the  death  of  her  mother  Blanca  went 
to  Camulos  and  remained  there  for  nine  years, 
wholly  unconscious  of  the  existence  of  the 
jewels,  or  that  such  a  rich  marriage  dot  awaited 
her.  This  was  strictly  in  accord  with  the 
wishes  of  her  mother,  which  were  sacredly  re- 
spected by  Sefiora  del  Valle.  For  thirteen 
years,  and  until  Blanca's  wedding,  the  jewels 
remained  in  a  stout  chest  beneath  the  bed  of 
the  Sefiora,  unseen  by  others. 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson  never  saw  Blanca  or 
the  jewels,  but  received  the  story  from  the  lips 
of  Dona  Mariana  de  Coronel.  The  little  Indian 
girl,  Guadalupe,  ward  of  Sefiora  del  Valle,  was 
at  Camulos  when  Mrs.  Jackson  visited  there. 
She  learned  from  members  of  the  household  of 



the  relations  of  the  child  to  Blanca,  correspond- 
ing with  those  of  Margarita  to  Ramona  in  the 
romance.  The  story  of  the  girl  had  also  been 
told  to  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  by  Dona  Mariana 
de  Coronel.  There  is  a  sequel  to  it  which  Mrs. 
Jackson  never  heard.  It  is  an  interesting  bit 
of  the  tragedy  of  life,  and  is  here  related. 

Notwithstanding  their  lineage  and  the  tradi- 
tions connecting  them  with  Mexican  rule,  the 
del  Valles  have  never,  since  American  occupa- 
tion, been  wanting  in  loyalty  to  the  United 
States  Government.  There  have  been  numer- 
ous occasions  for  the  visit  of  regular  army 
officers  to  various  points  in  Southern  California, 
and  in  passing  up  and  down  the  coast  it  was 
the  good  fortune  of  many  of  them  to  enjoy  the 
hospitality  of  Camulos  ranch.  They  were  al- 
ways sure  of  a  cordial  welcome  there,  especially 
at  the  hands  of  the  elder  del  Valle,  who,  in  his 
declining  years,  took  special  delight  in  recount- 
ing with  those  military  gentlemen  the  thrilling 
events  that  had  transpired  in  this  borderland. 

Upon  the  occasion  of  a  visit  of  Captain  Rid- 
ley, of  the  4th  U.  S.  Cavalry,  to  the  ranch,  he 
was  struck  by  the  singular  beauty  of  the  little 
Indian  girl,  whom  he  saw  flitting  in  and  out 
of  the  court.  Turning  to  a  companion,  a  citi- 
zen of  Los  Angeles  who  had  accompanied  him 



i- -I' 


O   -     _ 

-o  g- 

—     Z^    -' 


.•  o 

*2.  w    o 




o  < 

5«    ..  O 

l'^3  5 

5  w  > 
3  3 

O    3* 



on  this  journey,  he  inquired  with  some  agita- 
tion: "Who  is  that  girl?  She  is  the  exact 
image  of  my  sister ! "  His  friend  could  only 
say  that  she  was  an  Indian,  given  to  the  family 
by  a  Piru  chief,  but  adding  that  the  hostess 
would  doubtless  tell  him  all  that  was  known  of 

...  An  interview  with  Dona  Ysabel  del  Valle 
was  immediately  sought,  followed  by  a  talk 
with  the  girl  and  a  brief  explanation;  and  when 
the  officer  left  Camulos  he  took  with  him  to 
his  post,  in  Arizona,  the  child  who  bore  such 
a  striking  family  resemblance.  She  was  his 
daughter!  The  child  had  known  no  mother 
save  the  kind  Sefiora  del  Valle,  and  the  parting 
with  her  was  of  course  painful.  Her  own 
mother,  an  Indian  woman,  had  been  lost  sight 
of  in  the  wanderings  of  her  tribe. 

The  circumstances  under  which  this  Indian 
girl,  Guadalupe,  came  into  the  possession  of 
Sefiora  del  Valle  have  been  related  to  the  au- 
thors by  Senator  R.  F.  del  Valle  and  are  these. 
Sefiora  del  Valle  and  others  of  her  household 
were  crossing  the  Santa  Clara  River,  which 
runs  through  Camulos  ranch;  the  Senator,  then 
a  mere  youth,  riding  on  a  pony  ahead  of  the 
others.  He  came  upon  a  little  Indian  girl,  al- 
most naked,  who  was  hiding  in  the  bushes. 



But  when  the  Senora  came  up,  the  child  bright- 
ened and  ran  to  her,  crying  and  pleading  to  go 
with  her.  The  child  had  previously  been  at 
Camulos  ranch  and  had  been  so  tenderly  and 
considerately  treated  by  the  Senora  that  she 
wanted  to  go  to  her,  and  had  slipped  away 
from  her  squalid  Indian  quarters,  not  far 
from  the  del  Valle  abode,  and  was  on  her  way 
there.  The  Sefiora  took  the  child  to  her  home, 
and  afterward  the  Piru  chief,  to  whose  tribe  the 
child  belonged,  consented  that  she  might  be- 
come the  ward  of  Senora  del  Valle. 

The  sagacity  of  the  advice  of  the  Coronels 
to  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  to  visit  Camulos  is  thus 
shown  to  have  been  happily  vindicated.  When 
she  undertook  to  write  "  Ramona  "  it  was  only 
necessary  to  gather  the  tangled  threads  of  fact 
into  her  loom  as  warp,  and,  with  the  aid  of  her 
fancy  as  woof,  to  weave  the  beautiful  and  sym- 
metrical narrative  that  has  done  so  much  to 
enrich  and  elevate  American  literature. 

There  was  no  Ramona,  and  there  was  no 
Alessandro,  in  the  relation  in  which  they  are 
portrayed  by  Mrs.  Jackson.  And  yet  there  was 
a  strong  suggestion  of  both  the  incidents  and 
the  persons  in  events  transpiring  at  the  time. 
It  is  an  historical  fact  that  in  October,  1877, 
Juan  Diego,  a  Cahuilla  Indian,  was  shot  and 



killed  by  Sam  Temple  for  alleged  horse  steal- 
ing, in  the  Cahuilla  Range,  a  spur  of  the  San 
Jacinto  Mountains.  The  tragedy  was  not  only 
known  to  Mrs.  Jackson,  but  she  made  it  a 
special  feature  of  one  of  her  reports  to  the  De- 
partment of  the  Interior,  and  it  is  related  in 
the  appendix  to  "  A  Century  of  Dishonor."  It 
is  here  given  as  written  by  Mrs.  Jackson: 

"  An  incident  that  had  occurred  on  the 
boundaries  of  the  Cahuilla  Reservation,  a  few 
weeks  before  our  arrival  there,  is  of  importance 
as  illustrative  of  the  need  of  some  legal  pro- 
tection for  the  Indians  in  Southern  California. 
A  Cahuilla  Indian  named  Juan  Diego  had  built 
for  himself  a  house  and  cultivated  a  small  patch 
of  ground  on  a  high  mountain  ledge  a  few 
miles  north  of  the  village.  Here  he  lived  alone 
with  wife  and  baby.  He  had  for  some  years 
been  what  Indians  called  '  locoed ' ;  at  times 
crazy,  never  dangerous,  but  yet  certainly  in- 
sane for  longer  or  shorter  periods.  His  con- 
dition was  known  to  the  agent,  who  told  us  he 
feared  he  would  be  obliged  to  shut  Juan  up 
unless  he  got  better.  It  was  also  well  known 
throughout  the  neighboring  country,  as  we 
found  on  repeated  inquiry. 

"  Everybody  knew  Juan  was  locoed  (a  crazy 
condition  affecting  animals  from  eating  a  cer- 



tain  loco  weed.)  He  came  home  at  night  rid- 
ing a  strange  horse.  His  wife  exclaimed: 
'Why,  whose  horse  is  that?'  Juan  looked  at 
the  horse  and  replied  confusedly,  '  Where  is 
my  horse,  then?'  The  woman,  much  fright- 
ened, then  said :  '  You  must  take  that  horse 
right  back.  They  will  say  you  stole  it ! '  Juan 
said  he  would  as  soon  as  he  had  rested;  then 
threw  himself  down  and  fell  asleep. 

"  From  this  sleep  he  was  awakened  by  the 
barking  of  the  dogs,  and  ran  out  of  the  house 
to  see  what  it  meant.  The  woman  followed, 
and  was  the  only  witness  of  what  then  oc- 
curred. A  white  man  named  Temple,  the 
owner  of  the  horse  which  Juan  had  ridden 
home,  rode  up,  and  on  seeing  Juan  poured  out 
a  volley  of  oaths,  leveled  his  gun  and  shot  him 
dead.  After  Juan  had  fallen  on  the  ground, 
Temple  rode  near  and  fired  three  more  shots 
into  the  body,  one  in  the  forehead,  one  in  the 
cheek  and  one  in  the  wrist;  the  woman  looking 
on.  He  then  took  his  horse,  which  was  stand- 
ing in  front  of  the  house,  and  rode  away. 

"  The  woman,  with  the  baby  on  her  back, 
ran  to  the  Cahuilla  village  and  told  what  had 
happened.  This  was  in  the  night.  At  dawn 
the  Indians  went  over  to  the  place,  brought  the 
murdered  man's  body  to  the  village  and  buried 








<  *  S 

(J      G*~ 


X     ^^ 
W    '5JJ5 

SC  ">.t: 

^      M    W 

t    *c  « 

K>     Q  JS 

u   S» 


it.  The  excitement  was  intense.  The  teacher, 
in  giving  an  account  of  the  affair,  said  that 
for  a  few  days  she  feared  she  would  have  to 
close  the  school  and  leave  the  village. 

"  The  murderer  went  to  the  nearest  justice 
of  the  peace  and  gave  himself  up,  saying  he  had 
in  self-defense  killed  an  Indian.  He  swore  that 
the  Indian  ran  toward  him  with  a  knife.  A 
jury  of  twelve  men  was  summoned,  who  visited 
the  spot,  listened  to  Temple's  story,  pro- 
nounced him  guiltless,  and  the  justice  so  de- 
cided. The  woman's  testimony  was  not  taken. 
It  would  have  been  worthless  if  it  had  been,  so 
far  as  influencing  that  jury's  minds  was  con- 
cerned. Her  statement  was  positive  that  Juan 
had  no  knife,  nor  weapon  of  any  kind;  that  he 
sprang  up  from  his  sleep  and  ran  out  hastily 
to  see  what  had  happened,  and  was  shot  almost 
as  soon  as  he  had  crossed  the  threshold  of  the 

"  The  Agent  in  San  Diego,  on  being  informed 
by  us  of  the  facts  in  the  case,  reluctantly  ad- 
mitted that  there  would  be  no  use  whatever  in 
bringing  a  white  man  to  trial  for  the  murder 
of  an  Indian  under  such  circumstances,  with 
only  Indian  testimony  to  convict  him.  This 
was  corroborated,  and  the  general  animus  of 
public  feeling  was  vividly  illustrated  to  us  by  a 



conversation  we  had  later  with  one  of  the 
jurors  in  the  case,  a  fine,  open-hearted,  manly 
young  fellow,  far  superior  in  education  and 
social  standing  to  the  average  Southern 
California  ranchman.  He  not  only  justified 
Temple's  killing  of  the  Indian,  but  said  he 
would  have  done  the  same  thing  himself.  '  I 
don't  care  whether  the  Indian  had  a  knife  or 
not,'  he  said;  'that  didn't  cut  any  figure  in  the 
case  at  all,  the  way  I  looked  at  it.  Any  man 
that  would  take  a  horse  of  mine  and  ride  him 
up  that  mountain  trail,  I'd  shoot  him  whenever 
I  found  him.  Stockmen  have  just  got  to  pro- 
tect themselves  in  this  country.' 

"  The  fact  that  the  Indian  had  left  his  own 
horse,  a  well  known  one,  in  the  corral  from 
which  he  had  taken  Temple's,  that  he  had  rid- 
den the  straight  trail  to  his  own  door  and 
left  the  horse  in  front  of  it,  thus  tracked  and 
caught,  as  he  would  have  been,  weighed  noth- 
ing in  this  young  man's  mind.  He  was  finally 
forced  to  say,  however:  'Well,  I'll  agree  that 
Temple  was  to  blame  for  firing  into  him 
after  he  was  dead.  That  was  mean,  I'll 
allow.' " 

This  is  the  real  tragedy  that  gave  to  Mrs. 
Jackson  the  pictured  killing  of  Alessandro  in 
the  Cahuilla  range  of  the  San  Jacinto  Moun- 



tains,  where  he,  with  Ramona,  sought  refuge 
from  the  trespassing  white  man. 

The  slayer  of  Juan  Diego  was  Sam  Temple, 
the  brutal  Jim  Farrar  of  "  Ramona."  He  con- 
tinued to  live  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  more 
or  less  shunned  by  his  neighbors  because  of 
the  still  popular  belief  that  his  victim  was  in 
the  deplorable  mental  condition  described  by 
Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  when,  as  Alessandro,  he 
was  found  in  possession  of  the  white  man's 

There  was  also  current  at  the  time  a  legend 
connecting  one  Ramon  Corralez  with  a  roman- 
tic elopement  with  a  half-breed  Indian  girl 
named  Lugarda  Sandoval.  The  young  couple 
in  their  flight  are  supposed  to  have  experienced 
many  of  the  painful  episodes  credited  to  Ra- 
mona and  Alessandro  in  the  night  journeys 
over  the  mountains  to  San  Diego. 

At  the  same  time  Los  Angeles  was  ringing 
with  the  sensational  infatuation  of  a  beautiful 
American  girl  of  the  city  with  a  Saboba  Indian, 
whom  she  met  during  an  outing  with  her 
parents  in  the  San  Jacinto  Mountains.  They 
were  not  permitted  to  marry  and  did  not  elope; 
but  it  is  likely  the  incident,  in  connection  with 
the  Corralez-Sandoval  affair,  furnished  the  in- 
spiration for  the  Ramona-Alessandro  romance. 




MRS.  JACKSON  returned  to  Colorado 
from  California  in  the  early  summer 
of  1883.  From  her  home  on  November 
8th  of  that  year  she  wrote  to  the  Coronels,  a 
part  of  the  letter  reading :  "  I  am  going  to  write 
a  novel,  in  which  will  be  set  forth  some  Indian 
experiences  in  a  way  to  move  people's  hearts. 
.  .  .  The  thing  I  want  most  in  the  way  of 
help  from  you  is  this:  I  would  like  an  account, 
written  in  as  much  detail  as  you  remember  of 
the  time  when  you,  dear  Mr.  Coronel,  went  to 
Temecula  and  marked  off  the  boundaries  of  the 
Indians'  land  there  .  .  .  and  I  have  written 
to  Father  Ubach  and  to  Mr.  Morse  of  San 
Diego  for  other  reminiscences.  You  and  they 
are  the  only  persons  to  whom  I  have  spoken  of 
my  purpose  of  writing  the  novel,  and  I  do  not 
wish  anything  said  about  it.  I  shall  keep  it  a 
secret  until  the  book  is  done.  .  .  .  I  wish  I 



had  had  this  plan  in  my  mind  last  year  when  I 
was  in  Los  Angeles.  I  would  have  taken  notes 
of  many  interesting  things  you  told  me.  But 
it  is  only  recently,  since  writing  out  for  our 
report  the  full  accounts  of  the  different  bands 
of  Indians  there,  that  I  have  felt  that  I  dared 
undertake  the  writing  of  a  long  story." 

This  epistolary  statement  is  used  by  many, 
and  with  evident  justification,  on  which  to  base 
the  assertion  that  Mrs.  Jackson  did  not  even 
conceive  the  story  of  "  Ramona  "  while  in  Cali- 

It  is  to  be  conceded  that  the  novel  was  com- 
pleted in  New  York.  Sefiora  de  Coronel  de- 
clares positively  that  Mrs.  Jackson  talked  to 
her  about  the  story,  expressed  a  desire  to  lo- 
cate the  scene  at  the  Coronel  hacienda  and  told 
her  she  would  name  the  novel  "Ramona,"  all 
before  her  departure  for  the  East  in  1883. 

Mr.  Henry  Sandham,  the  "  Century's  "  artist, 
has  declared:  "At  the  time  of  the  California 
sojourn  I  knew  neither  the  name  nor  the  exact 
details  of  the  proposed  book;  but  I  did  know 
that  the  general  plan  was  a  defense  of  the  Mis- 
sion Indians,  together  with  a  plea  for  the 
preservation  of  the  Mission  buildings,  and  so 
on;  the  whole  to  be  enveloped  in  the  mys- 
tery and  poetry  of  romance.  I  had  thus  suffi- 



cicnt  knowledge  of  the  spirit  of  the  text  to 
work  with  keener  zest  upon  the  sketches  for 
the  illustrations;  sketches,  which,  it  may  be  of 
interest  to  know,  were  always  made  on  the 
spot  with  Mrs.  Jackson  close  at  hand,  suggest- 
ing emphasis  to  this  object  or  prominence  to 
that,  as  it  was  to  have  special  mention  in  the 

To  the  authors  Seriora  de  Coronel  has  de- 
clared that  at  her  home  Mrs.  Jackson  even 
selected  the  name  "  Ramona  "  for  her  intended 
romance,  and  relates  this  incident:  "  On  a  visit 
of  Mrs.  Jackson  to  the  home  of  Dr.  J.  De 
Barth  Shorb,  near  Pasadena,  a  child  of  the 
family  was  addressed  as  *  Ramona/  The  liquid 
sound  caught  Mrs.  Jackson's  ear,  and  she  re- 
marked: 'That  is  a  pretty  name.  Please  say 
it  again.'  On  her  way  home  she  continually 
repeated  the  name,  evidencing  she  was  im- 
pressed by  its  rhythmic  sound.  At  my  first 
meeting  with  Mrs.  Jackson  thereafter  she  ex- 
claimed: 'Oh,  I  have  heard  such  a  beautiful 
name,  Ramona,  and  I  am  going  to  use  it  as 
the  title  of  my  book.' " 

Seriora  de  Coronel  says  that  Mrs.  Jackson 
imposed  secrecy  on  her  and  her  husband  con- 
cerning her  intended  romance. 

It  is  not  impossible  to  reconcile  the  quota- 


LOS   ANGELES,    1889 


Wife  of  Juan  Diego,  killed  by  Jim  Farrar  of  "  Ramona,"  at  her 
husband's  grave.  Because  Mrs.  Jackson  pictured  the  tragic  death 
of  Alessandro  with  the  same  conditions  attending  the  killing  of 
Juan  Diego,  this  Indian  woman  has  been  erroneously  proclaimed 
and  commercialized  as  the  "  Real  Ramona." 


tion  from  Mrs.  Jackson's  letter  of  November 
8,  1883,  with  the  assertions  of  Sefiora  de  Coro- 
nel  and  Mr.  Sandham.  Mrs.  Jackson  came  to 
California  primarily  as  the  special  representa- 
tive of  the  "  Century  Magazine,"  to  secure  in- 
formation concerning  the  California  Mission 
Indians  and  contribute  articles  upon  the  sub- 
ject to  that  magazine.  She  was  also  commis- 
sioned by  the  Interior  Department  "to  visit 
the  Mission  Indians  of  California,  and  ascertain 
the  location  and  condition  of  the  various 

She  learned  of  the  unrighteous  treatment  of 
the  Temecula  Indians  by  the  white  man  and  of 
the  brutal  murder  of  Juan  Diego  by  Sam 
Temple.  Her  very  soul  was  aflame.  She  was 
writing  magazine  articles  and  recording  facts 
for  the  joint  report  rendered  by  her  and  Mr. 
Abbot  Kinney  to  the  Department  of  the  In- 
terior. All  the  pitiful  story  she  was  to  give 
to  the  public.  She  so  asserted  repeatedly.  It 
may  have  been  that  while  in  California  she  did 
not  wish  her  plan  to  write  a  novel  to  be  known, 
but  before  her  departure  she  did  announce  and 
discuss  giving  the  Mission  Indian  situation  to 
the  public.  At  one  time  she  intended  to  tell 
the  story  in  an  appendix  to  a  new  edition  of 
her  "A  Century  of  Dishonor." 



The  statements  of  Senora  de  Coronel,  Mrs. 
Jackson's  most  intimate  friend  in  California, 
and  of  Mr.  Sandham,  her  artist  companion, 
must  be  accepted  as  conclusive  proof  that  Mrs. 
Jackson  did,  before  departing  from  California 
in  1883,  conceive  and  announce  the  writing  of 
a  book  which  would  contain  the  facts  of  the 
inhuman  treatment  of  the  Mission  Indians  by 
the  white  man,  and  to  clothe  the  story  with 

Mrs.  Jackson  desired  to  write  the  story  of 
the  Mission  Indians  while  in  Southern  Califor- 
nia, in  the  atmosphere  of  the  Coronel  home, 
and  within  easy  reach  of  reinforcing  material; 
but  fate  forbade  it.  The  work  was  scarcely 
begun  when  events  dictated  a  different  plan, 
and  a  temporary  suspension  of  the  writing. 
She  realized  that  unless  the  Government  could 
be  prevailed  upon  to  extend  speedy  relief  to 
the  Indians  great  suffering  would  ensue,  and 
she  hastened  to  Washington  to  lay  the  whole 
matter  before  the  President  and  Congress. 
She  was  fortified  with  reports  of  officials  and 
civilians,  with  statements  of  influential  people 
of  all  stations,  the  material  facts  verified  under 
oath,  and  was  in  every  way  equipped  for  an 
effective  campaign.  She  successfully  appealed 
to  some  of  the  most  prominent  men  in  public 





life  at  the  time,  including  Senator  Henry  M. 
Teller  of  Colorado,  and  finally  prevailed  upon 
the  Administration  to  send  out  a  commission 
to  see  what  could  be  done. 

Reforms  in  the  policy  of  the  Indian  bureau 
soon  followed,  and  within  a  twelvemonth  she 
had  the  satisfaction  of  securing  the  passage  of 
a  law  granting  land  in  severalty,  together  with 
implements  for  its  cultivation,  to  such  Indians 
as  would  give  up  their  tribal  relations.  The 
Indian  Rights  Association  seconded  her  every 
effort,  also  sending  a  commission  to  Southern 
California  and  doing  effective  work  at  Wash- 

Before  leaving  Los  Angeles,  Mrs.  Jackson, 
in  conjunction  with  the  Coronels,  devised  a 
somewhat  ambitious  plan  for  the  institution  at 
some  place  in  Southern  California  of  an  in- 
dustrial school  for  the  Indians,  with  the  idea 
that  many  of  those  who  had  lost  their  homes 
might,  with  proper  instruction,  become  self- 
sustaining.  It  was  hoped  that  the  Govern- 
ment would  provide  a  suitable  home  for 
such  an  institution,  vesting  the  title  in  the 
Indians,  and  this  achieved,  it  was  her  pur- 
pose to  raise  the  necessary  funds  for  equip- 
ping it  by  private  subscription  and  otherwise. 
Personally  she  contemplated  devoting  the 



royalties  received  from  her  books  to  this 

Her  mission  to  Washington  accomplished, 
she  went  to  New  York,  finished  "  Ramona," 
and  arranged  for  its  publication.  She  then  be- 
gan the  preparation  of  five  additional  books, 
which  she  seems  to  have  carried  forward  simul- 
taneously; but,  on  account  of  the  fatal  illness 
that  attacked  her,  never  completed  any  of 

In  the  midst  of  this  labor  of  love  she  was 
forced  to  lay  down  her  pen  and  return  to  Cali- 
fornia, her  physician  hoping  but  scarcely  be- 
lieving that  the  change  would  prolong  her 
life.  She  survived  but  a  few  months,  passing 
away  peacefully  at  San  Francisco  on  the  i2th 
of  August,  1885. 

The  details  of  her  burial  on  the  slopes  of 
Cheyenne  Mountain,  under  the  shadow  of 
Pike's  Peak,  and  amidst  scenes  she  loved  so 
much,  are  familiar  topics. 

In  "California  of  the  South"  it  is  related 
that  in  June,  1887,  an  agent  from  Washington 
and  several  members  of  the  Indian  Rights 
Association  from  Los  Angeles  and  Pasadena, 
had  a  conference  with  the  Indian  chiefs,  or 
captains,  as  they  were  then  called,  at  Pala 
Mission,  to  explain  the  provisions  of  the  bill, 


w  °  w  2 

O  -»3  » 

o  r~ cT 
§  o  o  3 

co   C   3 

s-^-r^s  o 

^S^S-o'  f 

*   ^3?3      O 
^  3  «   t 

lifil  s 

^  .i»B  c^ 

|!  M*  g.  '  O 

«<*3-3  rr;;-  ™ 
« ^^S^  - 

sllii  > 

^  ^-90  3   O*     25 

SI8,?  § 

1511  > 

o  o  S  p    H 



2  ' 

o  S 


which  became  a  law  through  the  efforts  of 
Mrs.  Jackson,  providing  for  a  division  of  the 
reservation  lands  among  the  Indians,  giving 
to  each  one  in  his  individual  right  one  hundred 
and  sixty  acres.  Pala  Mission  is  twelve  miles 
from  Temecula,  where  the  agent  and  others 
went  on  the  California  Central  Railroad. 

The  meeting  is  thus  described :  "  At  the  date 
of  this  conference,  the  apricots  and  peaches 
were  just  ripe,  and  the  orchards  were  radiant 
with  luscious  fruit,  that  bent  many  of  the 
boughs  almost  to  the  ground.  Early  on  the 
morning  of  the  conference  the  Indian  chiefs 
began  coming  in  from  the  various  reservations, 
the  majority  on  horseback,  others  in  spring- 
wagons,  but  all  well  dressed  in  the  American 
style.  There  were  captains  and  generals,  quite 
a  number  of  whom  spoke  English,  Spanish  and 
three  or  four  Indian  dialects  fluently. 

"  There  were  among  them  several  who  might 
have  been  Alessandros,  but  no  Ramonas.  The 
agent  mounted  a  step  of  the  old  Mission,  and 
the  Indians  gathered  anxiously  around.  Each 
one  had  hat  in  hand,  and  they  all  stood  there 
in  the  hot  sun,  with  bared  heads,  watching  the 
agent  closely  as  he  spoke,  and  then  listening 
attentively  to  the  Hon.  A.  F.  Coronel,  of  Los 
Angeles,  as  he  interpreted  the  agent's  remarks. 



There  were  in  this  audience  some  noble  faces, 
to  whom  the  term  '  noble  red  man '  could  be 
fittingly  applied. 

"  One  noticeable  feature  was  their  serious 
earnestness.  They  all  remembered  Mrs.  Jack- 
son, who  made  prolonged  visits  among  them; 
and  when  the  agent  told  them  that  he  had 
promised  Mrs.  Jackson  on  her  death-bed  that 
he  would  go  on  with  her  work,  they  were  vis- 
ibly affected. 

"  Mrs.  Jackson's  name  is  familiar  to  almost 
every  human  being  in  Southern  California, 
from  the  little  three-year-old  tot,  who  has  her 
choice  juvenile  stories  read  to  him,  to  the  aged 
grandmother  who  sheds  tears  of  sympathy  for 



AIOTHER  generation  has  come  on  the 
stage  since  Don  Antonio  de  Coronel,  the 
close  and  helpful  friend  to  Mrs.  Jack- 
son, gave  up,  at  the  behest  of  commerce,  the 
picturesque  home  in  the  orange  grove  which 
had  sheltered  him  and  his  since  1834.  The 
troubled  Mission  Indian  can  no  more  find  it  or 
him.  After  the  partition  of  the  rancho  he 
built  a  handsome  modern  residence  at  the  cor- 
ner of  Central  Avenue  and  Seventh  Street,  Los 
Angeles,  overlooking  the  old  tract,  and  there, 
in  the  companionship  of  his  noble  wife,  he 
spent  the  remainder  of  his  days,  dying  in  1894. 
Helen  Hunt  Jackson  visited  the  Don  and 
Dona  Mariana  in  1884,  a  few  months  before 
her  death,  and  there  a  delegation  of  Mission 
Indian  women  brought  to  their  benefactress,  as 
a  token  of  their  love,  a  beautiful  white  linen 
morning  robe,  marvelously  wrought  by  their 
own  hands,  with  the  drawn  work,  for  which 
they  are  famous,  accentuating  the  entire  front. 
Sefiora  de  Coronel  describes  the  garment  as  the 



most  elaborate  and  exquisite  she  had  ever  seen, 
and  calculates  that  in  the  production  of  it 
months  of  patient  and  artistic  labor  of  many 
persons  must  have  been  expended. 

To  the  new  home  was  removed  the  collec- 
tion of  California  antiquities  which  Don  An- 
tonio had  been  fifty  years  in  gathering,  and 
which  has  been  pronounced  unique  and  the 
most  interesting  of  any  on  the  coast.  Califor- 
nia had  repeatedly  sought  to  acquire  this  col- 
lection for  the  exhibit  of  the  State  Historical 
Society,  and  $30,000  had  been  offered  for  it; 
but  this  and  all  other  offers  were  declined, 
since  it  had  been  Dona  Mariana's  purpose,  ever 
since  the  death  of  her  husband,  to  give  the 
precious  relics  to  the  city.  They  were  deliv- 
ered into  the  care  and  custody  of  the  Chamber 
of  Commerce  of  Los  Angeles,  where  they  are 
now  displayed,  filling  entirely  one  large  apart- 

Photographs,  sketches  and  paintings  of  the 
old  hacienda  survive  in  the  Coronel  section  of 
the  Chamber  of  Commerce  exhibit,  and  will  be 
viewed  with  interest  and  delight  by  genera- 
tions yet  to  come.  They  give  strong  hints  of 
the  gentle  life  beneath  its  expansive  eaves  in 
the  long  ago,  when  Don  Antonio  was  the 
Indians'  padre  and  every  man's  friend,  the 



gates  of  his  castle  ever  opening  inward  to  all 
comers,  his  hospitality  known  from  San  Diego 
to  Siskiyou. 

The  figures  depicted  in  some  of  these  views, 
those  of  the  old  Don  and  his  wholesome,  hand- 
some wife,  and  their  native  dependents,  all 
drawn  from  life  and  perpetuated  in  oil,  will 
serve  to  recall  not  only  their  charming  per- 
sonalities, but,  as  well,  the  gorgeous  costuming 
of  that  early  era  on  this  coast,  the  chief  events 
of  which  are  rapidly  mingling  with  tradition. 

Don  Antonio  de  Coronel  was  ever  the  true 
and  faithful  friend  of  the  Indians.  They 
trusted  him  implicitly,  and  sought  him  for  ad- 
vice and  assistance  in  all  their  troubles. 
Among  his  last  words  to  his  faithful  wife  was 
this  request:  "Mariana,  when  I  am  dead  and 
gone,  be  kind  to  the  Indians.  Never  turn  one 
away  without  food." 

Chosen  as  the  bearer  of  captured  American 
flags  to  the  Mexican  capital,  Don  Antonio  was 
chased  all  over  this  country  by  the  soldiers  of 
General  Kearney,  who  was  determined  that  the 
flags  should  not  be  sent.  Dead  or  alive,  he 
must  be  captured,  and  every  inducement  was 
offered  the  Indians  to  assist  in  taking  him. 

General  Kearney  promised  the  Indians  that 
every  foot  of  land  taken  from  them  should  be 



restored  if  only  they  would  deliver  up  Don 
Antonio  to  him.  But  he  had  been  shrewd 
enough  to  dispatch  the  flags  to  Mexico  by 
another  person,  one  who  would  never  be  sus- 
pected of  being  the  bearer.  Naturally,  how- 
ever, he  did  not  want  to  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  Americans.  He  had  other  things  to  do. 
Upon  one  occasion  a  troop  of  horsemen,  under 
the  immediate  command  of  General  Kearney, 
chased  him  directly  to  an  Indian  village;  but 
none  of  the  chiefs  knew  anything  about  him, 
of  course.  They  told  him  of  the  offer  of  Gen- 
eral Kearney,  but  assured  him  they  never  would 
give  him  up. 

Little  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  while  Kearney 
was  parleying  with  some  of  the  captains,  an- 
other rushed  Don  Antonio  out  into  the  cactus 
patch  near  by,  and  beating  down  the  bushes  as 
best  he  could,  pushed  Don  Antonio  beneath 
them,  that  he  might  not  be  seen,  so  long  as  he 
remained  in  a  crouching  position.  It  was  a 
painful  experience  he  endured,  lasting  nearly 
the  night  through;  and  when  the  troopers  left, 
about  daylight,  he  came  out  a  most  pitiful  sight, 
his  clothing  almost  stripped  from  his  body, 
and  bleeding  at  every  pore.  He  was  in  such 
a  position  during  all  those  painful  hours  that 
he  could  not  move  without  encountering  the 


thorns  of  the  cactus.  But  the  Don's  life  was 
saved,  Indian  fidelity  was  vindicated,  and  the 
American  flags  reached  Chapultepec,  where 
they  can  be  seen  to-day  by  the  curious. 

In  "  Glimpses  of  California  and  the  Mis- 
sions" Mrs.  Jackson  gives  this  sketch  of  Don 
Antonio  de  Coronel: 

"  Don  Antonio  speaks  little  English;  but  the 
Senora  knows  just  enough  of  the  language 
to  make  her  use  of  it  delicious,  as  she  trans- 
lates for  her  husband.  It  is  an  entrancing 
sight  to  watch  his  dark,  weather-beaten  face, 
full  of  lightning  changes  as  he  pours  out  tor- 
rents of  his  nervous,  eloquent  Spanish  speech; 
watching  his  wife  intently,  hearkening  to  each 
word  she  uses,  sometimes  interrupting  her 
urgently  with,  '  No,  no;  that  is  not  it/ — for  he 
well  understands  the  tongue  he  cannot  or  will 
not  use  for  himself.  He  is  sixty-five  years  of 
age,  but  he  is  young;  the  best  waltzer  in  Los 
Angeles  to-day;  his  eye  keen,  his  blood  fiery 
quick;  his  memory  like  a  burning-glass  bring- 
ing into  sharp  light  and  focus  a  half-century 
as  if  it  were  a  yesterday.  Full  of  sentiment,  of 
an  intense  and  poetic  nature,  he  looks  back  to 
the  lost  empire  of  his  race  and  people  on  the 
California  shores  with  a  sorrow  far  too  proud 
for  any  antagonisms  or  complaints.  He  recog- 



nizcs  the  incxorableness  of  the  laws  under 
whose  workings  his  nation  is  slowly,  surely 
giving  place  to  one  more  representative  of  the 
age.  Intellectually  he  is  in  sympathy  with 
progress,  with  reform,  with  civilization  at  its 
utmost;  he  would  not  have  had  them  stayed  or 
changed,  because  his  people  could  not  keep  up 
and  were  not  ready.  But  his  heart  is  none  the 
less  saddened  and  lonely. 

"  This  is  probably  the  position  and  point 
of  view  of  most  cultivated  Mexican  men  of  his 
age.  The  suffering  involved  in  it  is  inevitable. 
It  is  part  of  the  great,  unreckoned  price  which 
must  always  be  paid  for  the  gain  the  world 
gets  when  the  young  and  strong  supersede  the 
old  and  weak. 

"A  sunny  little  southeast  corner  room  in 
Don  Antonio's  house  is  full  of  the  relics  of  the 
time  when  he  and  his  father  were  foremost 
representatives  of  ideas  and  progress  in  the 
City  of  the  Angels,  and  taught  the  first  school 
that  was  kept  in  the  place.  This  was  nearly 
a  half-century  ago.  On  the  walls  of  the  room 
still  hang  maps  and  charts  which  they  used; 
and  carefully  preserved,  with  the  tender  rever- 
ence of  which  only  poetic  natures  are  capable, 
are  still  to  be  seen  there  the  old  atlases,  primers, 
catechisms,  grammars,  reading-books,  which 










MARIANA.    (Permission  of  Miss  Annie  B.  Picker,  Pasadena.) 

"  Don  Antonio  would  take  up  his  guitar,  and,  in  a  voice  still 
sympathetic  and  full  of  melody,  sing  an  old  Spanish  love-song. 
Never  *  *  *  in  his  most  ardent  youth  could  his  eyes  have  gazed 
on  his  fair  sweetheart's  face  with  a  look  of  greater  devotion 
than  that  with  which  they  now  rest  on  the  noble,  expressive 
countenance  of  his  wife."  (Mrs.  Jackson  in  "Glimpses  of  Cali- 
fornia and  the  Missions.") 


meant  toil  and  trouble  to  the  merry,  ignorant 
people  of  that  time." 

Mrs.  Jackson  then  proceeds  to  relate  several 
stories  of  the  experiences  of  Don  Antonio, 
after  which  she  continues: 

"  Sitting  in  the  little  corner  room,  looking 
out  through  the  open  door  on  the  gay  garden 
and  breathing  its  spring  air,  gay  even  in  mid- 
winter, and  as  spicy  then  as  the  gardens  of 
other  lands  are  in  June,  I  spent  many  an  after- 
noon listening  to  such  tales  as  this.  Sunset  al- 
ways came  long  before  its  time,  it  seemed,  on 
these  days. 

"  Occasionally,  at  the  last  moment,  Don  An- 
tonio would  take  up  his  guitar,  and,  in  a  voice 
still  sympathetic  and  full  of  melody,  sing  an 
old  Spanish  love-song,  brought  to  his  mind  by 
thus  living  over  the  events  of  his  youth. 
Never,  however,  in  his  most  ardent  youth, 
could  his  eyes  have  gazed  on  his  fairest  sweet- 
heart's face  with  a  look  of  greater  devotion  than 
that  with  which  they  now  rest  on  the  noble, 
expressive  countenance  of  his  wife,  as  he  sings 
the  ancient  and  tender  strains.  Of  one  of  them 
I  once  won  from  her,  amid  laughs  and  blushes, 
a  few  words  of  translation: — 

" '  Let  us  hear  the  sweet  echo 

Of  your  sweet  voice  that  charms  me. 



The  one  that  truly  loves  you, 
He  says  he  wishes  to  love; 
That  the  one  who  with  ardent  love  adores  you, 
Will  sacrifice  himself  for  you. 

Do  not  deprive  me, 

Owner  of  me, 
Of  that  sweet  echo 
Of  your  sweet  voice  that  charms  me/ 

"  Near  the  western  end  of  Don  Antonio's 
porch  is  an  orange  tree,  on  which  were  hang- 
ing at  this  time  twenty-five  hundred  oranges, 
ripe  and  golden  among  the  glossy  leaves.  Un- 
der this  tree  my  carriage  always  waited  for 
me.  The  Senora  never  allowed  me  to  depart 
without  bringing  to  me,  in  the  carriage,  fare- 
well gifts  of  flowers  and  fruit;  clusters  of 
grapes,  dried  and  fresh;  great  boughs  full  of 
oranges,  more  than  I  could  lift.  As  I  drove 
away  thus,  my  lap  filled  with  bloom  and  golden 
fruit,  canopies  of  golden  fruit  over  my  head,  I 
said  to  myself  often :  '  Fables  are  prophecies. 
The  Hesperides  have  come  true.' " 



WRITERS  without  number  have  time 
and  again  sought  for  the  inspiration 
of  "  Ramona  "  in  a  score  or  more  of 
historical  facts,  incidents  and  circumstances, 
from  the  pitiful  story  of  the  eviction  of  the  Pon- 
cas  to  the  tearful  episode  at  Temecula,  stretch- 
ing across  the  continent  and  covering  half  a  cen- 
tury of  time.  But  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  needed 
none  of  these.  She  knew  the  whole  sorrowful 
story  by  heart,  and  from  her  own  windows  in 
her  modernized  tepee  at  the  corner  of  Kiowa 
and  Comanche  streets,  in  Colorado  Springs,  she 
could  have  drawn  sufficient  inspiration  for  a 
dozen  stories.  And  it  is  not  a  little  significant 
that  her  own  home  site  should  have  been  on 
a  street  corner  named  for  two  tribes  that  re- 
garded Manitou  as  a  shrine,  and  annually 
visited  it  to  purify  their  sin-sick  souls  and 
cleanse  their  bodies. 

From   the   spacious   corner   apartment,   fur- 


nished  and  beautified  with  articles  from  her 
New  England  home,  transplanted  to  the  banks 
of  the  Fountaine,  every  vestige  of  modern  fur- 
nishings had  been  removed.  Floor  and  wall 
coverings,  originally  soft  rugs  from  Turkey 
and  Arabia,  and  tapestries  from  the  banks  of 
the  Seine,  had  given  place  to  bright  colored 
Navajo  blankets  and  flaming  Arapahoe  and 
Cheyenne  scrapes  from  Arizona  and  New 
Mexico.  Dainty  specimens  of  the  plastic  art 
from  the  Sevres  works  at  Paris  or  the  royal 
plant  at  Dresden  had  yielded  to  the  ruder,  but 
perhaps  not  less  spiritual  and  intellectual  crea- 
tions of  the  Hopi  Indians  of  Santa  Fe.  Arab 
curiosities  from  the  kiosks  of  Cairo,  and  French 
curios  from  the  shops  of  the  Palais  Royal  had 
been  taken  away,  that  room  might  be  found 
for  Apache  bows  and  arrows  and  Sioux  war- 
clubs,  for  samples  of  those  exquisitely  wrought 
baskets  of  the  Mission  Indians  of  California, 
and  unique  bits  of  pottery  from  the  Yaquis  of 

Place  had  been  found,  space  abundantly  con- 
spicuous too,  for  specimens  of  drawn  work,  for 
which  the  tribal  women  of  Saboba  were  and 
yet  are  particularly  noted.  The  entire  apart- 
ment bore  an  aspect  of  unmistakable,  if  un- 
intended, barbaric  splendor. 



'~K  td 

3      m 
.  c: 


§    3 


S.2.    CO 









OQ  "" 

cj  w 








The  crucifix  was  his  mother's  and  he  died  with  it  in  his  hands. 
The  penitential  bracelet,  cilicio,  was  on  the  arm  of  Father  Zal- 
videa,  San  Gabriel  Mission,  when  the  latter  died. 


There  were  in  the  large  collection  no  baskets 
made  by  Ramona;  because  there  never  was  a 
Ramona,  save  in  the  mind  of  the  gifted  author, 
nor  did  she  ever  pretend  that  there  was. 

Every  article,  however,  had  for  its  owner 
a  particular  language,  and  each  to  her  told  a 
story  peculiarly  its  own.  There  was  not  an 
item  visible  that  to  her  lacked  deep  significance. 
Few,  if  any,  of  the  stories  they  told  were  bright 
or  cheerful.  Most  of  them  were  written  in 
blood,  and  told  of  the  anguish  of  a  race  run 
to  earth.  Each  was  treasured  for  the  message 
it  bore  of  gratitude,  simple  yet  deeply  sincere, 
for  acts  instinct  with  love  and  sympathy. 

Long  before  the  ice-mantled  crest  of  Pike's 
Peak  became  a  landmark  for  the  argonaut  in  his 
cross-continent  trek  to  the  gold-lined  shores  of 
Cherry  Creek  it  served  another  and  broader 
purpose.  To  the  native  Indian  tribes  of  all 
the  vast  stretches  of  mountain  and  plain  radi- 
ating from  it  in  all  directions  it  indicated  the 
location  of  both  sanitarium  and  sanctuary,  at 
the  base  of  those  titanic  elevations  since  known 
to  the  white  man  as  Pike's  Peak,  Cameron's 
Cone  and  Cheyenne  Mountain. 

The  great  Ute  Iron  Spring  and  its  near 
neighbor,  the  Cheyenne  Soda  Spring,  com- 
panioned by  numerous  other  bubbling  springs 



without  hint  of  mineral  content,  had  been 
sought  by  the  afflicted  of  all  the  tribes  for  ages, 
and  had  come  to  be  regarded  as  possessing 
supernatural  curative  powers. 

These  really  marvelous  springs  nestle  here 
and  there  amidst  the  rocks  and  crags  and  scrub 
oaks  in  the  sylvan  nook  at  the  base  of  Pike's 
Peak.  They  once  constituted  the  red  man's 
sanitarium,  belonging  to  all  alike,  with  no  at- 
tempt to  monopolize  their  virtues  for  this  tribe 
or  that — the  gift  of  the  gods  to  all  who  sought 
relief  from  physical  ills  by  drinking  of  or  bath- 
ing in  their  wondrous  waters. 

Scarce  a  mile  away  to  the  eastward  was  the 
red  man's  sanctuary,  the  Garden  of  the  Gods, 
where  they  annually  gathered  to  perform  their 
peculiarly  weird  religious  ceremonies.  This 
interesting  bit  of  nature,  in  its  most  freakish 
mood,  embraces  four  square  miles  in  the  charm- 
ing valley  of  the  Fountaine  Que  Bouille.  Its 
attractions  are  most  unique,  consisting  of  an 
immense  and  varied  collection  of  eroded  sand- 
stone rocks,  supposedly  formed  by  the  winds, 
into  strange  figures  and  grotesque  shapes, 
resembling  ruined  temples,  forts  and  castles, 
forms  of  birds,  insects,  animals  and  even  of 
human  beings.  Conspicuous  among  these  is  a 
particular  rock  of  gigantic  proportions  and 



peculiar  formation,  pointed  out  to  visitors  as  the 
one  formerly  worshiped  by  the  Indians  as  the 
Great  Manitou — God — giving  appropriate  name 
to  the  locality. 

Stretching  for  miles  to  the  southward  along 
the  Front  Range  is  the  sweeping  slope  of  Chey- 
enne Mountain,  its  face  beautified  here  and 
there  by  numerous  waterfalls,  ever  dancing  in 
the  golden  sunlight  from  grassy  summit  to 
carpeted  feet.  These  mingle  in  a  common  out- 
let, which  winds  its  way  through  the  broad 
valley  and  loses  itself  in  the  arroyos  below. 
This  wondrously  beautiful  stream  of  purest 
mountain  water,  eternally  refreshed  from  the 
spotless  snow  deposits  of  the  upper  altitudes, 
and  more  or  less  of  a  cataract  in  the  rainy  sea- 
son, rejoices  in  the  poetic  title  of  Fountaine 
Que  Bouille. 

Beginning  at  the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  and 
extending  a  distance  of  forty  miles  to  the  west- 
ward, is  a  typical  mountain  trail,  known  far 
and  wide  as  Ute  Pass.  Winding  its  tortuous 
way  over  the  Front  Range,  its  greatest  eleva- 
tion exceeding  12,000  feet,  it  leads  into  the 
South  Park,  one  of  the  three  great  natural 
mountain  depressions  into  which  the  State  of 
Colorado  is  divided,  sixty  miles  from  north  to 
south,  perhaps  thirty  to  forty  from  east  to 



west,  and  formerly  a  great  rendezvous  for  buf- 
falo, elk,  deer  and  antelope — the  Indians'  hunt- 
ing ground. 

Quite  as  interesting  and  remarkable  as  the 
natural  features  already  mentioned  may  be 
added  Monument  Park,  Glen  Eyrie,  Cave  of 
the  Winds  and  a  hundred  others,  not  less  cap- 
tivating to  the  eye  or  rendered  less  interesting 
by  reason  of  Indian  legend  that  yet  retains  hold 
upon  the  imagination,  although  the  sway  of 
the  pale  face  has  been  complete  for  well  nigh 
half  a  century. 

Necessarily  these  are  here  dismissed  with  a 
passing  word,  the  main  object  of  their  brief 
mention  being  achieved  in  picturing  the  en- 
vironment selected  by  Helen  Hunt  Jackson 
for  her  home,  an  environment  distinctively  ab- 
original. True,  the  last  Indian  had  long  been 
driven  from  his  sanitarium  and  his  sanctuary 
when  Mrs.  Jackson  located  at  Colorado 
Springs  and  took  up  her  life's  work  there;  but 
natural  objects,  names,  history  and  legends 
remained,  as  ever  they  will.  Every  influence 
suggested  the  past  and  its  saddening  story  of 
broken  treaties,  of  forcible  evictions,  of  wan- 
tonly cruel,  unchristian,  unmerciful  treatment 
of  the  red  man,  primary  owner  of  it  all. 

From  this  environment  Mrs.  Jackson  looked 


out  of  windows  and  across  bits  of  landscape, 
not  so  long  before  the  sole  possession  of  the 
Indian,  now  Indian  in  name  only.  Far  back 
had  the  original  possessor  been  driven,  leaving 
only  legendary  title  upon  particular  landmarks. 
In  the  distance  was  Cheyenne  Mountain,  but 
the  Indian  tepee  was  upon  its  wooded  slopes 
no  longer.  Winding  up  over  the  giant  moun- 
tain in  narrow,  tortuous  course,  was  Ute  Pass, 
marking  the  weary  way  taken  by  sad-faced 
Utes  when  finally  driven  from  the  great  spring 
where  they  and  their  forefathers  for  genera- 
tions past  had  gathered  to  seek  surcease  from 
pain  in  its  curative  waters.  In  the  foreground 
was  the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  each  sculptured 
monument  full  of  the  deepest  significance  to 
Indian  mind  and  heart,  surcharged,  as  the  pale 
face  may  not  begin  to  realize,  with  spiritual 
thoughts  and  inspirations. 

Glen  Eyrie  would  ever  remain  dear  to  them 
as  the  home  of  the  eagle,  perched  as  it  was 
almost  beyond  rifle  range  in  the  rocky  clefts 
above,  and  yet  undisturbed.  There  also  was 
the  singular  "  Gateway  "  to  the  Garden  of  the 
Gods,  also  full  of  significance  to  the  aborigines 
— two  lofty  spires  pointing  heavenward;  one 
of  the  brightest  red  sandstone,  the  other  of  the 
purest  white  limestone.  There  were  the  Seven 



Falls,  Bridal  Veil  Falls,  the  pearly  Fountaine 
Que  Bouille,  all  differently  named  by  the  red 
man  before  white  occupation,  but  losing  noth- 
ing of  significance  by  change  in  nomenclature. 
These  and  a  hundred  other  as  unique  monu- 
ments have  been  left  to  mark  the  "  happy 
hunting  grounds  "  of  the  long  ago. 

The  Indians  themselves  had  first  been  forced 
back  of  the  Front  Range  into  the  great  South 
Park,  and  would  have  been  content  to  remain 
there;  but  the  white  man  quickly  followed, 
uncovered  gold  along  the  banks  of  Chicago 
Creek  and  it  no  longer  remained  a  fit  place 
for  the  Indian;  for  the  big  game  went  out 
with  the  coming  in  of  the  whites.  Farther 
back  the  original  possessor  must  go  and  seek 
sustenance  at  the  head  waters  of  the  Arkansas. 
There,  too,  the  white  man  followed,  again  dis- 
covering fabulous  auriferous  wealth  in  the 
sands  of  California  Gulch;  and  again  the  red 
man  must  go.  Ever  backward  must  he  move; 
away  from  the  great  game  preserves,  away 
from  abundant  water  supply,  away  from  the 
gold  and  silver  deposits. 

Over  the  main  range  was  he  now  forced, 
where  buffalo  were  not,  and  where  it  then  was 
believed  nothing  more  could  be  found  to  excite 

the  white  man's  cupidity;  but  the  red  face  was 



scarcely  located  there  when  mineral  springs 
larger  and  more  valuable  than  those  at  Mani- 
tou  were  found,  where  coal  veins  greater  than 
the  entire  superficial  area  of  Pennsylvania  were 
uncovered,  where  the  great  silver  ledge  at 
Aspen  was  located. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  Government  was 
importuned  again  to  force  the  Indian  back 
upon  a  new  frontier,  and  a  wretched  place  was 
found  for  him  amidst  the  wastes  of  North- 
western Utah.  There  the  Uintah  reservation 
was  established,  and  the  trek  across  another 
range  of  mountains  directed  from  Washington. 
But  before  the  order  for  removal  came  the 
greedy  white  man  had  forced  himself  upon  the 
Indian's  new  reservation  and  taken  possession. 

The  chairman  of  the  Senate  Committee  on 
Indian  Affairs,  Mr.  Dawes  of  Massachusetts, 
from  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  about  this  time, 
read  to  the  astonished  senators  a  "proclama- 
tion," printed  on  cloth  and  tacked  on  the  trees 
all  over  the  Grand  River  Reservation,  announc- 
ing that  the  Government,  by  proposing  to  give 
the  land  to  the  Indians,  had  parted  with  its 
title,  and  that,  inasmuch  as  "the  under- 
signed," four  audacious  adventurers,  of  whom 
one  of  the  authors  of  this  volume  was  one, 
announced  that  the  Indian  title  would  not  be 



recognized,  and  that  anybody  wanting  anything 
on  the  reservation  must  see  them!  These  four 
men  had  located  the  town-site  of  Glenwood,  the 
valuable  springs  adjacent,  and  about  everything 
else  in  sight,  assigned  their  "  holdings  "  to  an 
incorporated  company,  and  begun  the  sale  of 
lots  and  mines.  All  this  before  the  Indians 
had  so  much  as  been  consulted  as  to  whether 
they  would  again  consent  to  move  on. 

Since  the  death  of  Mrs.  Jackson  and  her 
interment  upon  the  slopes  of  Cheyenne  Moun- 
tain, the  people  of  Colorado  Springs  and  Mani- 
tou  have  taken  a  deep  and  absorbing  interest 
in  commemorating  her  work,  as  well  as  per- 
petuating the  legendary  Indian  history  of  what 
has  come  to  be  known  as  the  "  Pike's  Peak  Re- 
gion." In  1912  an  organization  was  formed 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  an  annual  celebra- 
tion or  carnival,  distinctively  Indian  in  all  its 
features.  That  the  fullest  recognition  of  this 
might  be  given  to  the  event  it  is  called  "  Shan 
Kive"  (Indian  for  fete  or  carnival,  and  pro- 
nounced "  Shawn  Keedie  "). 
K  At  the  first  Shan  Kive,  in  the  autumn  of 
1912,  the  Ute  Pass  was  formally  dedicated. 
Various  Indian  dances  were  indulged  in,  as  well 
as  Indian  pony  races  in  costume,  and  all  of 
the  sports  and  games  of  the  several  tribes  of 



red  men  who  originally  owned  and  inhabited 
that  section,  constituted  interesting  and  pleas- 
ing features  of  the  occasion.  Films  were  made 
of  all  the  principal  events,  and  these  have  been 
exhibited  in  all  sections  of  the  country. 

Primarily  intended  to  exploit  the  passing 
race  of  red  men,  and  to  commemorate  the 
great  work  of  "the  first  lady  of  Colorado 
Springs,"  Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  the  event 
sprang  into  instant  favor.  It  now  occurs  an- 
nually the  first  week  in  September,  when  Colo- 
rado's wonderful  flora  is  at  its  best,  and  when 
the  weather  in  the  sun-kissed  city  is  reliably 
climatic  perfection. 

The  annual  celebration  of  Shan  Kive  doubt- 
less will  serve  for  many  generations,  if  not 
for  all  time,  to  keep  fresh  in  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  the  people  the  almost  sublime  work 
of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson. 




/  •  \HE  disheartened  little  woman,  Mrs.  Jack- 
son, in  her  modernized  tepee  at  Colo- 
•^  rado  Springs,  had  written  "  A  Century 
of  Dishonor,"  and  was  at  that  time  wonder- 
ing why  it  had  failed  to  stir  a  Christian  na- 
tion to  action.  She  was  brooding  over  what 
seemed  to  be  the  failure  of  its  mission.  She 
had  repeatedly  been  to  the  capital  of  the  na- 
tion, and  there  had  met  with  a  reception  none 
too  cordial.  She  was  planning  the  story  of 
"Ramona,"  little  realizing  what  a  great  work 
she  was  undertaking.  Physically  she  was 
worn  to  a  frazzle.  Mentally  she  was  well-nigh 
distracted.  She  had  but  recently  completed  a 
tour  of  Southern  California,  using  carriage, 
wagon  and  burros,  enduring  all  manner  of 
hardships,  since  in  all  the  vast  empire  trav- 
ersed there  were  no  suitable  accommodations 
for  a  lady  of  her  age,  habits  of  life  and  refine- 


In  this  mission  she  had  taken  nothing  for 
granted.  Wherever  there  were  known  to  be 
gathered  half  a  dozen  Indians,  there  she  re- 
paired, to  look  into  their  condition  and  to  see 
for  herself  what  might  be  done  for  their  im- 
mediate needs.  Thus  in  turn  she  was  driven 
to  Saboba,  Cahuilla,  Warner's  Ranch,  San 
Ysidro,  Los  Coyotes,  San  Ysabel,  Mesa 
Grande,  Capitan  Grande,  Sequan,  Conejos, 
Pala,  Rincon,  Pauma,  San  Pasquale,  La  Jolla, 
Pechanga,  San  Gorgonio,  Camulos,  Temecula, 
Santa  Barbara,  San  Diego,  the  Desert  Reserva- 
tion and  other  places. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  the  Indian 
had  not  in  every  instance  accorded  yielding 
obedience  to  the  white  man's  behest  to  "  move 
on."  Occasionally  he  had  demurred  to  the 
unreasonable  demands  made  upon  him.  Upon 
a  few  occasions,  indeed,  he  had  gone  upon  the 
warpath  and  taken  a  few  scalps.  But  these 
occasions  were  rare,  and  all  told  would  scarce 
fill  a  page  of  history.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
story  of  the  wrongs  inflicted  upon  his  people 
by  the  whites  would  crowd  many  volumes  to 
repletion.  Sand  Creek  and  like  stories  of  the 
butcheries  of  Indians  constitute  the  bloodiest 
pages  of  American  border  narrative.  Unfor- 
tunately for  Mrs.  Jackson,  the  Northern  Utes 



had,  about  this  time,  rebelled  against  the  Gov- 
ernment, murdered  Agent  Meeker  and  car- 
ried his  wife,  daughter  Josephine  and  a  com- 
panion, Mrs.  Price,  into  the  fastnesses  of  the 
mountains,  holding  them  as  hostages. 

This  incident  gave  the  red  man's  enemies 
an  unusual  opportunity  to  demand  the  com- 
plete wiping  out  of  Chief  Ouray's  band,  al- 
though that  brave  and  his  immediate  follow- 
ers had  always  distinguished  themselves  as 
the  friends  of  the  whites.  It  counted  for  little 
that  all  three  women  are  said  to  have  become 
the  willing  consorts  of  braves  of  the  Ute 
tribe;  that  Josephine  Meeker  had  fairly  to  be 
torn  away  from  her  dusky  lover,  Chief  Per- 
sune;  that  Mrs.  Price  reluctantly  gave  up 
Chief  Jack,  and  that  Mrs.  Meeker  was  not 
willingly  restored  to  her  friends  in  Colorado. 
Such  reports  were  currently  circulated  and  gen- 
erally credited.  Mrs.  Jackson,  alone  of  all  the 
people  of  Colorado,  was  left  to  defend  the  acts 
of  the  Utes,  to  the  story  of  the  provocation 
for  which  none  but  she  willingly  would 

Numerous  writers  have  undertaken  to  com- 
pare the  work  of  Mrs.  Jackson  with  that  of 
Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  but  with  very  indif- 
ferent success.  The  works  of  the  two  gifted 



authors  possibly  may  be  contrasted,  but  not 
well  compared.  For  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  as 
all  well  informed  persons  must  be  aware,  there 
was  a  ready-made  public  sentiment.  For 
nearly  a  century  human  slavery  had  been  a 
living  and  a  burning  issue.  The  Anti-Slavery 
Society  had  labored  long  and  effectively  in 
preparing  the  public  for  such  a  novel  as  finally 
came  from  the  inspired  pen  of  Mrs.  Stowe. 
There  long  had  been  a  regularly  established 
and  securely  founded  organization  in  every 
Northern  State,  and  in  not  a  few  there  was 
an  "  underground  railway "  prepared  for  the 
fleeing  bondmen. 

Mrs.  Stowe's  biographer,  her  own  son,  says 
of  the  immediate  success  of  "  Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin":  "Neither  she  nor  her  husband  had 
the  remotest  idea  of  the  unique  power  and 
interest  of  the  story  that  was  being  written. 
Nor,  indeed,  did  it  dawn  upon  either  of  them 
until  after  the  publication  of  the  first  edition 
in  book  form.  Professor  Stowe  was  a  very 
emotional  man,  and  was  accustomed  to  water 
his  wife's  literary  efforts  liberally  with  his 
tears;  so  the  fact  that  he  had  wept  over  the 
bits  of  brown  paper,  upon  which  the  first  chap- 
ter was  written,  had  for  them  no  unusual  por- 
tent. As  to  pecuniary  gain,  he  often  ex- 



pressed  the  hope  that  she  would  make  enough 
by  the  story  to  buy  a  new  silk  dress!  " 

Although  the  public  mind  and  heart  were 
prepared  for  such  a  publication,  it  seems  that 
Mrs.  Stowe  felt  impelled  to  write  to  Fred 
Douglass,  calling  his  attention  to  the  fact  that 
it  was  appearing  as  a  serial  in  the  "  National 
Era."  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  was  written  at 
various  places,  at  Brunswick,  Maine,  and  at 
Boston  and  Andover;  and  although  announced 
to  run  but  three  months,  it  was  not  completed 
for  thirteen  months,  appearing  in  book  form 
some  weeks  thereafter.  Ten  thousand  copies 
were  sold  within  a  few  days,  and  over  three 
hundred  thousand  within  a  year,  and  eight 
power  presses  running  day  and  night  were 
barely  able  to  keep  pace  with  the  demand  for 
it.  It  was  read  everywhere,  apparently,  and 
by  everybody;  and  the  author  soon  began  to 
hear  echoes  of  sympathy  from  all  over  the 
land.  The  indignation,  the  pity,  the  distress, 
that  had  long  weighed  upon  her  soul  seemed 
to  pass  off  from  her  and  into  the  readers  of 
the  book. 

So  successful  had  the  book  been  that  Mrs. 
Stowe  at  once  set  herself  to  the  task  of  writ- 
ing "The  Key  to  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  fol- 
lowed by  "Dred,"  all  upon  the  same  theme, 



and  all  of  these  several  works  were  trans- 
lated into  nearly  every  tongue  and  were  widely 
read  the  world  over.  The  fame  of  the  author 
became  so  great  that  she  felt  compelled,  after 
the  publication  of  "The  Key"  and  "  Dred," 
to  accept  the  invitation  of  friends  of  the  cause 
of  emancipation  in  England  to  visit  that  coun- 
try as  their  guest.  This  she  did,  extending 
her  visits  to  France,  Germany  and  Switzer- 
land, everywhere  received  as  a  world  char- 
acter to  be  honored  and  feted,  not  alone  by 
the  poor  and  the  lowly,  but  as  well  by  royalty 

But  a  far  different  sentiment  awaited  the 
coming  of  "Ramona."  It  was  unlocked  for 
and  unwanted.  It  was  most  indifferently  re- 
ceived. Nowhere  was  there  sympathy  for 
"H.  H."  or  "her  Indians."  Mrs.  Jackson's 
nearest  neighbors  were  yet  not  proselytes  to 
her  mission.  There  was  not  a  newspaper  in 
Colorado  that  dared  to  champion  her  cause; 
not  a  man  in  public  life  who  cared  to  assert 
that  reason  and  justice  and  logic  were  on  her 

Friendly  as  the  writer  for  years  had  been 
with  Mrs.  Jackson,  a  frequent  and  as  he  be- 
lieves always  a  welcome  visitor  to  her  home, 
he  yet  recalls,  with  the  deepest  regret  and 



remorse  and  mortification,  the  fact  that  he 
never  employed  the  instrumentalities  at  hand 
to  defend  the  woman  and  her  work,  save  in  a 
literary  way  and  for  a  literary  reason.  The 
"  Leadville  Chronicle  "  and  "  Leadville  Herald- 
Democrat,"  which  he  owned  and  edited  at  the 
time,  could  have  been  his  powerful  weapons 
in  her  defense.  His  conversion  came  long 
after  her  death,  the  result  of  a  re-reading  of 
her  many  works  upon  the  Indian  question  and 
a  deeper  and  more  analytical  study  of  her 
noble  purpose. 

Coming  late  in  life  though  it  does,  there 
is  now  nourished  a  sincere  hope  that  some 
amends  may  be  made  for  earlier  mistakes  and 
fatal  errors  of  immature  judgment. 

Before  coming  to  California  Mrs.  Jackson 
was  aflame  with  sympathy  for  the  Mission 
Indians.  January  17,  1880,  she  thus  wrote 
to  one  of  her  intimate  friends :  "  I  think  I  feel 
as  you  must  have  felt  in  the  old  Abolition 
days.  I  cannot  think  of  anything  else  from 
night  to  morning  and  from  morning  to  night. 
...  I  believe  the  time  is  drawing  near  for 
a  great  change  in  our  policy  toward  the  In- 
dian. In  some  respects,  it  seems  to  me,  he  is 
really  worse  off  than  the  slaves.  They  did 
have,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  good  houses, 




and  they  were  not  much  more  arbitrarily  con- 
trolled than  the  Indian  is  by  the  agent  on  a 
reservation.  He  can  order  a  corporal's  guard 
to  fire  on  an  Indian  at  any  time  he  sees  fit. 
He  is  '  duly  empowered  by  the  Government/ ' 

On  September  4,  1884,  Mrs.  Jackson  thus 
wrote  Sefior  and  Sefiora  de  Coronel :  "  I  some- 
times wonder  that  the  Lord  does  not  rain  fire 
and  brimstone  on  this  land,  to  punish  us  for 
our  cruelty  to  these  unfortunate  Indians." 

Four  days  before  her  death  Mrs.  Jackson 
wrote  the  following  letter  to  the  President  of 
the  United  States: 

To  Grover  Cleveland, 

President  of  the  United  States. 
Dear  Sir, — 

From  my  death-bed  I  send  you  a  message 
of  heartfelt  thanks  for  what  you  have  already 
done  for  the  Indians.  I  ask  you  to  read  my 
"  Century  of  Dishonor."  I  am  dying  happier 
for  the  belief  that  it  is  your  hand  that  is 
destined  to  strike  the  first  steady  blow  toward 
lifting  this  burden  of  infamy  from  our  coun- 
try, and  righting  the  wrongs  of  the  Indian 

With  respect  and  gratitude, 

Helen  Jackson. 




THE  last  visit  of  the  writer  to  Helen 
Hunt  Jackson's  home  in  Colorado 
Springs  was  in  the  summer  of  1883. 
It  was  in  company  with  the  late  Ben  Steele, 
the  gifted  editor  of  the  "Gazette"  of  that 
city,  also  a  warm  personal  friend  of  Mrs. 
Jackson,  yet  one  who,  for  obvious  reasons, 
withheld  from  her  that  public  encouragement 
so  freely  extended  in  his  personal  intercourse. 
The  initial  edition  of  "  A  Century  of  Dishonor  " 
had  been  exhausted,  and  the  details  of  the  pub- 
lication of  another  were  quite  generally  dis- 
cussed at  this  informal  gathering. 

In  July,  1882,  Mrs.  Jackson  had  been  com- 
missioned by  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior,  to- 
gether with  Mr.  Abbot  Kinney,  of  Los 
Angeles,  to  visit  and  report  upon  the  condi- 
tion of  the  Mission  Indians  of  California. 
This  recognition  by  the  Government  had  been 



highly  gratifying  to  her  and  she  appeared  to 
be  deeply  appreciative  of  the  assistance  ren- 
dered her  by  Mr.  Kinney.  In  subsequent  cor- 
respondence with  him  he  had  invariably  ad- 
dressed her  as  "  General,"  a  circumstance 
which  appealed  strongly  to  her  sense  of  humor. 
She  once  wrote  that  one  of  her  first,  if  not  her, 
very  first,  resolutions  in  life  was  not  to  be  "  a 
woman  with  a  hobby,"  and  here  she  was  being 
recognized  everywhere  as  a  woman  with  a 
very  pronounced  hobby,  the  Indians,  and  ad- 
dressed as  "  General "  by  a  male  companion 
in  official  life. 

The  judgment  of  those  present  at  this  meet- 
ing was  consulted  as  to  whether  it  were  bet- 
ter to  print  her  report  upon  the  Southern 
California  Indians  under  separate  cover,  or 
as  an  appendix  to  another  edition  of  "  A  Cen- 
tury of  Dishonor,"  at  that  time  deemed  im- 
perative. Because  of  the  relative  brevity  of 
the  joint  report  upon  the  condition  and  needs 
of  the  Mission  Indians,  it  was  the  consensus 
of  opinion  of  those  present  that  it  would  be 
more  likely  to  secure  a  larger  reading  by  go- 
ing out  as  a  part  of  a  work  that  already  had 
passed  to  a  second  edition,  and  that  course 
was  agreed  upon.  But  at  the  same  time  she 
announced  that  she  intended  writing  a  novel 



in  which  she  would  present  the  wretched  story 
of  the  Mission  Indians  of  California. 

It  may  be  here  remarked  that  Mrs.  Jack- 
son was  not  so  much  displeased  with  the  sale 
of  the  original  edition  of  "  A  Century  of  Dis- 
honor " ;  her  disappointment  related  more  to 
the  apparent  apathy  with  which  it  had  been 
received  by  Senators,  members  of  Congress 
and  bureau  officers  having  charge  of  Indian 
affairs.  She  had  under  consideration  at  the 
time  a  number  of  projects  calling  for  govern- 
mental recognition  and  financial  support,  and 
doubtless  was  unduly  impatient  with  the  slow 
processes  then  in  vogue.  Her  most  ambitious 
scheme  was  the  establishment,  at  some  point 
in  Southern  California,  of  an  industrial  school 
for  Mission  Indian  women.  For  this  she  de- 
sired the  Government  to  donate  a  suitable 
site  and  deed  it  to  the  Indians.  For  its  en- 
dowment she  intended  to  devote  all  royalties 
received  from  the  sale  of  her  several  books,  in- 
cluding the  one  just  begun,  which  developed 
into  the  great  American  novel,  "  Ramona." 
She  looked  to  the  Coronels  to  aid  her  in  this 
great  undertaking.  They  were  to  take  charge 
of  this  institution. 

Mrs.  Jackson  was  at  this  time  an  exceed- 
ingly busy  woman.  She  was  ever  that,  how- 



ever,  but  her  official  and  literary  work  was 
crowding  her,  and  she  complained  that  not 
as  often  as  she  desired,  and  as  formerly  had 
been  her  habit,  had  she  been  able  to  visit  her 
favorite  places  in  the  mountains.  Chief  of  these 
was  Cheyenne  Mountain  and  the  numerous 
and  beautiful  waterfalls  for  which  the  locality 
always  has  been  noted.  One  of  these,  and 
one  of  the  most  picturesque,  has  since  been 
christened  "  Ramona  Falls,"  for  the  lovely 
heroine  of  the  romance.  Her  favorite,  how- 
ever, was  Seven  Falls,  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful and  picturesque  in  America,  the  source  of 
which,  at  that  time,  was  reached  by  a  series 
of  rather  steep  wooden  steps,  just  upon  the 
edge  of  the  foaming  cascade.  It  was  here,  at 
the  summit  of  the  mountain  crag,  in  a  little 
grove  of  spruce  trees  and  near  the  edge  of  a 
huge  pile  of  volcanic  rock,  that  Mrs.  Jackson 
selected  a  burial  place  for  herself.  Her  de- 
sires in  this  respect  were  strictly  executed,  and 
for  a  number  of  years  she  rested  there,  in  the 
place  she  loved  so  much,  under  the  shadows 
of  Pike's  Peak  and  within  sound  of  the  splash- 
ing waters  of  Seven  Falls. 

Later,  and  for  a  reason  not  anticipated  at 
the  time  of  her  interment,  it  became  necessary 
to  disinter  the  remains  and  rebury  them  at 



Evergreen  Cemetery,  Colorado  Springs.  A 
ranchman  in  Cheyenne  Canon  had  taken  ad- 
vantage of  his  title  to  the  land  upon  which  the 
grave  was  located  to  charge  an  admission  fee 
to  see  it,  and  also  reaped  a  considerable  reve- 
nue from  hiring  to  tourists  a  burro,  once 
owned  and  used  by  Mrs.  Jackson  upon  which 
to  skirt  the  mountain  side. 

This  commercializing  of  the  grave  became 
so  distasteful  to  the  author's  relatives  and 
friends,  in  the  course  of  time,  as  to  make  it 
imperative  to  remove  the  remains.  They 
were  taken  away  as  quietly  and  unceremoni- 
ously as  they  had  been  laid  there  at  her  re- 
quest, and  even  the  local  papers  were  not 
advised  of  the  incident  for  some  time  there- 

During  the  last  visit  of  the  writer  to  the 
home  of  Mrs.  Jackson  she  related  many  inter- 
esting incidents  of  her  official  journey  through 
the  mountains  of  Southern  California,  its 
pleasing  as  well  as  its  sorrowful  phases.  She 
spoke  feelingly  of  the  Coronels,  and  related  in 
what  manner  they  had  been  most  helpful  to 
her.  It  was  at  their  suggestion  and  urgent 
insistence  that  Mrs.  Jackson  had  paid  a  visit 
to  Camulos  ranch,  and  all  that  she  said  re- 
garding that  visit  led  her  hearers  to  believe 



that  the  scene  of  the  novel  she  had  in  hand 
was  to  be  laid  there. 

Notwithstanding  her  excessive  modesty  in 
referring  to  the  work  she  had  undertaken,  it 
was  not  difficult  to  realize  that  it  was  her 
purpose  to  make  it  what  since  it  has  turned 
out  to  be,  "the  great  American  novel."  Very 
naturally  she  preferred  to  talk  about  the  work 
already  done  rather  than  to  speculate  upon 
future  plans.  The  conversation  was  mainly 
in  regard  to  "  A  Century  of  Dishonor,"  and 
the  deep  disappointment  she  felt  that  it  had 
not  produced  that  effect  upon  the  national  con- 
science which  she  had  a  right  to  expect. 

It  is  doubtful  if  an  author  ever  before  had 
taken  such  pains  as  had  Mrs.  Jackson  to  pre- 
pare for  the  production  of  "Ramona."  She 
well  knew,  long  in  advance  of  its  publication, 
that  she  was  not  to  have  a  friendly  reception 
for  her  work.  She  felt  that  public  criticism 
would  be  merciless,  and  fully  realized  the  im- 
portance of  unquestioned  correctness  in  every 
position  taken.  Her  first  step  had  been  to 
thoroughly  inform  herself  regarding  the  law, 
the  ground  work  of  human  rights.  She  had 
read  everything  relating  to  the  lives  and  char- 
acters, the  public  and  private  utterances,  of 
such  men  as  Garrison,  Whittier,  Lowell, 



Phillips,  Starr  King,  Lovejoy,  Brown  and  all 
the  other  national  leaders  of  the  anti-slavery 
movement.  She  had  read  all  the  treaties  with 
all  the  American  Indian  tribes  of  record,  from 
that  with  the  Delawares  in  1620  down  to  the 
day  and  hour  when  it  became  necessary  to 
close  her  narrative,  analyzing  the  conditions 
and  traversing  the  history  of  each,  never  fail- 
ing to  disclose  the  almost  uniform  bad  faith 
of  the  Government  in  carrying  out  solemn 
obligations  entered  into  between  a  powerful 
people  upon  the  one  side  and  weak,  dependent 
wards  upon  the  other.  She  dug  up  and  waded 
through  hundreds  of  musty  public  documents, 
read  thousands  of  pages  of  the  "  Congressional 
Record,"  and  finally  entered  upon  her  great 
task  with  a  full  equipment  of  information  per- 
tinent to  the  subject,  a  large  part  of  which 
she  found  to  her  mortification  was  wholly  un- 
known to  the  executive  officers  of  the  Govern- 
ment at  the  time. 



From  which  Senora  del  Vallc  was  accustomed  to  watch  for  the 
coming  of  her  husband  down  the  valley.  It  presents  a  view  of 
many  miles. 



MORE  than  a  decade  after  this  last  con- 
versation with  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  it 
was  the  privilege  of  the  writer  to  visit 
Southern  California.  His  thoughts  naturally 
were  largely  of  his  dead  friend  and  her  great 
work  in  behalf  of  the  Mission  Indians.  He 
assumed  that  he  would  be  accorded  a  cordial 
welcome  at  the  home  of  Dona  Mariana  de  Coro- 
nel,  then  a  widow,  and  was  not  disappointed. 
She  was  not  alone  cordial,  but  communicative 
to  a  degree,  and  in  that  initial  and  in  sub- 
sequent interviews  a  fund  of  most  interesting 
and  valuable  information  was  disclosed.  She 
regretted  that  so  many  fictions  had  arisen  con- 
cerning "  Ramona,"  and  expressed  a  desire 
that  someone  should  undertake  to  tell  the  true 

Some  years  ago  one  of  the  authors  of  this 
book  prepared  a  short  story  upon  "  Ramona," 



in  which  the  inspiration  and  creation  of  the 
romance  were  told,  which  was  published  in  the 
"  Out  West "  magazine.  In  this  article  the 
writer  endeavored  to  give  some  of  the  real 
facts  surrounding  the  story,  and  asserted  that 
the  characters  of  Alessandro  and  Ramona  were 
fictitious.  This  declaration  was  not  calculated 
to  encourage  the  imposition  on  tourists  by 
curio  sellers  in  palming  off  baskets  as  having 
been  made  by  the  Ramona  of  Helen  Hunt 

The  publication  of  this  article  was  followed 
by  the  receipt  of  an  extraordinarily  large  num- 
ber of  letters  from  persons  in  various  sections 
of  the  country,  as  well  as  in  Europe,  whose 
ideals  had  thus  been  hopelessly  demolished. 
All  protested  that  they  had  bought  their 
Ramona-made  baskets  in  good  faith,  treasured 
them  sacredly,  and  each  pronounced  it  a  burn- 
ing shame  that  he  or  she  should  have  been 
imposed  upon  by  conscienceless  traffickers,  or 
that  the  writer  should,  at  such  a  late  day, 
attempt  to  discourage  the  popular  belief  in  the 
existence  of  a  real  Ramona,  and  deny  that  she 
was  still  in  the  business  of  basket  making  on 
a  large  scale  in  some  impossible  cation  down 
by  the  sea. 

The  only  comfort  that  could  be  extended 



these  unhappy  correspondents  was  cheerfully 
given.  It  was  not  much,  but  it  at  least  pos- 
sessed the  quality  of  sincerity.  It  was  de- 
clared by  the  writer  that  to  his  mind  nothing 
could  compensate  for  the  exchange  of  the 
idealized  Ramona,  one  of  the  most  charming 
characters  fiction  has  ever  donated  to  the 
world  of  letters,  for  a  squat  Indian,  with 
straight,  coarse  black  hair,  thick  lips  and  high 
cheek  bones,  capable  of  sitting  all  day  in  a 
bamboo  wickiup  and  contenting  herself  with 
the  weaving  of  baskets,  however  beautiful  in 
themselves  or  symbolic  in  their  conception. 
At  all  events,  he  suggested  that  a  little  reflec- 
tion would  have  saved  these  unfortunate  in- 
vestors much  of  their  sentiment  and  some  of 
their  money. 

Inasmuch  as  the  time  of  the  story,  by  com- 
parison of  records  and  incidents,  must  have  been 
between  1840  and  1880,  the  life  of  the  "  real " 
Ramona  could  hardly  have  been  extended, 
even  by  the  liberal  use  of  Aunt  Ri's  herb  decoc- 
tions, down  to  the  twentieth  century.  And 
again,  if  the  "  real "  Ramona  were  indeed  an 
Indian,  and  had  given  her  undivided  time  and 
talents  to  the  creation  of  baskets,  it  would 
not  have  been  possible,  within  the  space  of  one 
short  life,  to  produce  the  large  number  that 



have  been  purchased  for  the  decoration  of  the 
homes  of  Ramona-lovers  all  over  the  country, 
and  that  yet  comprise  so  large  a  proportion  of 
the  stock  of  curio  stores  all  over  Ramonaland, 
from  Monterey  to  San  Diego. 

The  writer  came  to  California  with  the  prin- 
cipal facts  regarding  the  inspiration,  progress 
and  completion  of  the  romance  thoroughly 
grounded  in  his  mind.  Mrs.  Jackson  had  in 
substance  told  him  that  the  Coronels  had  in- 
spired the  story,  had  aided  immensely  in  the 
task  of  gathering  material  for  it,  and  finally 
had  insisted  that  she  should  visit  Camulos 
ranch  to  secure  the  necessary  local  color. 
Neither  Guajome,  which  she  had  several  times 
visited,  nor  any  other  Southern  California  ranch 
was  referred  to  by  her  in  connection  with  the 
plot  then  in  her  mind  for  the  romance  of 
"  Ramona." 

Dona  Mariana  de  Coronel  confirmed  the 
conviction  already  entertained  regarding  the 
chief  incidents,  and  urged  a  personal  visit  to 
Camulos  as  almost  essential  to  a  correct  under- 
standing of  all  the  incidents  of  the  plot. 

This  latter  suggestion  was  acted  upon  with- 
out unnecessary  loss  of  time.  So  often  had 
the  hospitality  of  the  del  Valle  household 
been  imposed  upon  by  curiosity-seekers  and 



relic-hunters  that  a  favorable  introduction  was 
a  thing  to  be  prized.  This  the  writer  pro- 
cured through  the  long  acquaintance  and  close 
intimacy  of  his  wife  with  the  family  of  Senator 
del  Valle  of  Los  Angeles,  and  a  most  delight- 
ful day  was  spent  within  the  classic  precincts 
of  the  real  home  of  the  only  Ramona  that  ever 
existed,  the  character  idealized  from  the  per- 
sons of  Blanca  Yndart  and  Guadalupe,  the 
little  Indian  ward  of  Dona  Ysabel  del  Valle, 
as  heretofore  stated. 

The  writer's  wife,  some  time  previously,  had 
spent  an  entire  week  as  a  guest  at  the  ranch, 
during  which  she  had  opportunity  to  thor- 
oughly familiarize  herself  with  animate  and  in- 
animate features  of  the  place.  Members  of  the 
del  Valle  family  had  pointed  out  the  original 
boundaries  of  the  ranch,  exactly  correspond- 
ing with  Mrs.  Jackson's  description.  It  had 
indeed  extended  "  forty  miles  westward  to  the 
sea,  forty  miles  eastward  into  the  San  Fer- 
nando Mountains,  and  an  equal  distance  along 
the  coast  line." 

But  Governor  Pio  Pico's  grants  had  been 
largely  disallowed  by  the  American  authori- 
ties, when  they  took  over  the  country,  and  the 
limitations  of  the  princely  ranch  had  been 
greatly  circumscribed.  The  crosses  were  yet 



upon  the  hillsides  to  the  north  and  the  south 
of  the  ranch  house,  that  the  heretics  might 
still  know,  "  when  they  go  by,  that  they  are 
on  the  estate  of  a  good  Catholic." 

The  "aroma  of  it  all  lingered  there  still." 
It  had  not  been  an  unusual  thing,  during  Sefior 
del  Valle's  day,  for  as  many  as  fifty  people  to 
be  seated  in  the  spacious  dining-room  at  one 
time.  The  working  force  of  the  ranch  was 
perhaps  never  quite  so  large,  but  the  occasion 
was  rare  when  a  dozen  or  more  guests  were 
not  being  entertained. 

It  was  a  custom  at  Camulos,  as  at  many 
another  Spanish  home  in  the  Mission  days,  to 
place  a  basket  of  silver  money  in  the  room 
of  the  passing  guest,  stranger  though  he 
be,  that  he  might  replenish  the  financial  needs 
of  his  journey. 

The  resources  of  the  ranch  were  large  and 
varied,  and  settlements  for  wool  and  fruit  and 
other  foodstuffs  came  in  large  amounts.  These 
were  almost  invariably  made  in  coin,  and  it 
was  the  custom  of  the  Sefior  del  Valle  to  keep 
all  of  the  funds  in  a  large  trunk  or  box,  that 
was  never  locked  against  any  member  of  the 
family,  nor  was  any  account  ever  kept  of  the 
withdrawals  made  from  time  to  time. 

When  the  writer  was  there  the  pay-roll 



probably  did  not  include  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  hundred.  But  even  from  this  diminished 
number  in  the  household  it  would  not  have 
been  difficult  for  the  observer  to  select  almost 
every  character  of  the  romance  from  those 
gathered  in  the  patio  and  on  the  south  veranda 
of  the  typical  old  Spanish  hacienda.  Neither 
Blanca  Yndart,  Guadalupe  nor  Senator  del 
Valle  was  there.  But  there  was  Senora  del 
Valle,  still  the  uncrowned  queen  of  the  realm; 
half-breeds  of  almost  noble  bearing,  who  easily 
might  represent  Alessandro;  and  other  per- 
sonages who,  without  violent  wrenching  of 
the  imagination,  might  be  taken  for  Juan 
Canito,  the  chief  herder,  for  Marda,  the  cook, 
Anita  and  Maria,  the  forty-year-old  twins, 
"  born  on  the  place,"  and  their  two  daughters, 
Rosa  and  Anita  the  Little,  for  Jose,  and  all  the 
other  characters  of  the  story.  There  was 
present  more  than  one  representative  of  old 
Juanita,  oldest  of  the  household,  "silly,  and 
good  only  to  shell  beans";  for  to  the  day  of 
her  death  Sefiora  del  Valle  maintained  a  goodly 
little  army  of  pensioned  retainers,  none  of 
whom  could  she  think  of  turning  away. 

It  has  long  been  the  custom  to  hold  an  an- 
nual fiesta  at  Camulos  ranch,  a  gathering  of 
the  del  Valle  family  and  friends.  A  guest  at 



one  of  these  annual  gatherings  wrote  a  de- 
scription of  it,  published  in  "  California  of 
the  South,"  which  is  here  submitted: 

"  The  annual  fiesta  is  a  gathering  of  the  del 
Valle  family  and  a  few  invited  guests  that  takes 
place  in  July,  and  lasts  four  days.  The  train 
from  Los  Angeles  arrived  about  noon  of  the 
first  day  with  twenty-five  of  the  family  and 
friends.  Sefiora  del  Valle  stood  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  garden  and  welcomed  each  guest. 
The  visitors  were  quickly  conducted  to  their 
rooms,  where  water,  comb  and  brush  soon  re- 
moved all  trace  of  the  midsummer  car-ride. 
Dinner  was  then  announced,  and  Senator  Regi- 
nald F.  del  Valle,  a  prominent  Los  Angeles 
attorney,  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  which 
was  under  a  shady  arbor  in  the  garden  but  a 
few  steps  from  the  chapel.  Two  barbecued 
pigs,  done  to  perfection,  formed  the  principal 
meat  of  this  meal,  but  there  were  olives,  cooked 
and  pickled,  various  Spanish  dishes,  contain- 
ing almost  invariably  chiles  (red  peppers) 
and  olives,  delicious  dessert,  claret  and  white 
wine  ad  libitum,  and  the  regulation  black  cof- 
fee. Surrounding  the  table  were  members 
of  numerous  distinguished  Spanish-American 
families.  The  two  features  that  attracted  the 
particular  attention  of  an  American  were  the 



p.  a 


3-  a  H 


?  8 


2     S 

CU       (-H 




gallantry  of  the  men  and  the  beauty  and  vi- 
vacity of  the  ladies. 

"  The  afternoon  was  spent  by  the  guests 
hunting,  riding,  singing,  reading,  talking  and 
mountain-climbing,  just  as  each  one  chose. 
In  this  way  of  entertaining,  and  yet  giving 
each  visitor  perfect  freedom  to  do  just  as  he 
pleased,  the  hostess  and  her  daughters  dis- 
played rare  tact.  Watermelons  and  fruits  of 
various  kinds  were  always  at  hand. 

"  At  7  P.M.  another  bountiful  meal  was 
served  in  the  arbor,  which  was  brilliantly 
lighted  by  lanterns  fastened  between  the  in- 
numerable clusters  of  purple  grapes  that  hung 
overhead.  This  time  two  roasted  kids  were 
served — and  delicious  they  were.  After  an 
hour's  walk,  all  gathered  in  the  spacious  par- 
lor, and,  with  music  on  the  piano,  the  organ 
and  the  guitar,  and  vocal  solos  and  choruses, 
time  quickly  sped.  Fireworks  in  the  garden 
closed  the  entertainment  for  the  first  day. 
.  "  The  next  morning  all  were  out  bright  and 
happy,  and  at  breakfast,  where  everything 
was  served  with  the  usual  profusion,  the 
American  would  notice  that  olives  were  again 
eaten  by  all,  which  leads  to  a  reflection  in  re- 
gard to  the  value  of  this  ancient  food. 

"After  breakfast  an  hour  was  spent  by  the 



good  hostess  and  her  Catholic  guests  in  the 

"A  fat  young  steer  was  then  lassoed  by  a 
vaquero,  the  aorta  was  dexterously  severed 
with  a  knife,  and  then  began  some  dissecting 
that  would  have  surprised  the  most  skillful 
anatomist.  The  skin  was  quickly  and  neatly 
taken  off  and  spread  out  to  protect  the  beef 
from  the  earth;  the  muscles  were  then,  layer 
after  layer,  deftly  removed,  and  in  an  incredibly 
short  time  this  Mexican  butcher  had  the  meat 
ready  for  the  fire. 

_  ,"A  fire  in  a  pit  near  by  had  been  heating 
stones,  which  were  now  red-hot.  Iron  rods 
were  laid  across  the  pit,  and  the  whole  beef 
put  on  to  roast  for  dinner. 

"The  noon  train  from  Los  Angeles  added 
materially  to  the  number  of  guests,  and 
seventy-five  as  happy  people  as  ever  lived  sat 
around  the  heavily-laden  table  under  the  grape- 
vines. What  a  delicious  meal  that  was!  The 
eating  was  happily  interspersed  with  laughter, 
conversation  and  brilliant  repartee. 

"After  the  dessert  had  been  enjoyed  toasts 
were  in  order,  and  following  those  to  the  del 
Valle  family,  and  Southern  California,  a  gray- 
headed  Mexican  gentleman,  after  delivering 
a  fervid,  eloquent  eulogy  upon,  proposed  a 



toast  to  the  memory  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson, 
which  was  drank  standing.  How  true  the 
statement:  'Mrs.  Jackson  is  dead,  but  her 
work  still  lives  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  of 
Southern  California/  " 

The  Ramona  jewels  were  not  exhibited,  nor 
yet  referred  to,  upon  this  visit  of  the  writer. 
There  was  no  occasion  for  it.  They  had  all 
been  given  to  Blanca  Yndart,  upon  the  occa- 
sion of  her  marriage  to  James  Maguire,  about 
1878.  Blanca  had  removed  them,  with  other 
belongings,  to  her  home  at  Newhall,  a  town 
midway  between  Los  Angeles  and  Camulos. 

The  nomenclature,  "  Ramona  jewels,"  is  mis- 
leading, since  the  property,  in  addition  to 
jewels,  included  a  large  trunk  filled  to  reple- 
tion with  dress  skirts,  waists,  shawls,  bolts  of 
silk  and  of  satin,  and  female  lingerie  generally. 
Most  if  not  all  of  these  were  rich  and  costly, 
some  of  them  very  old,  and  all  highly 

It  is  an  habitual  practice  of  the  old  Span- 
ish families  to  retain  clothing  for  years,  and 
in  the  attic  of  the  ranch  house  at  Camulos 
there  were  not  less  than  thirty  trunks  filled 
with  clothing  that  had  been  accumulating  for 
generations.  Often  skirts  were  made  over  for 
the  children,  but  the  waists,  on  account  of 



changing  fashions  and  perhaps  for  other  rea- 
sons, could  not  be  so  utilized,  and  in  these 
trunks  were  samples  of  the  fashions  of  numer- 
ous decades. 

The  jewel  case  in  the  "secret  closet"  back 
of  the  statue  of  Saint  Catherine,  to  which 
Sefiora  Moreno  is  made  to  point  in  her  dying 
conversation  with  Felipe,  is  the  purest  myth. 
There  never  was  such  a  secret  closet  in  the 
wall  at  Camulos,  and  Mrs.  Jackson  used  it 
simply  to  heighten  the  reader's  interest  and 
add  to  the  tensity  of  the  situation. 

The  Ramona  jewels,  until  removed  by 
Blanca  Yndart,  remained  in  a  large  trunk  under 
the  bed  in  Sefiora  del  Valle's  chamber.  They 
remained  there  many  years,  and  there  may 
have  been  many  reasons  for  so  keeping  them 
segregated  from  the  other  trunks  and  boxes. 
None  was  volunteered  and  no  explanation  in- 
vited. Sight  of  the  trunk  itself  was  of  more 
than  ordinary  interest  to  the  writer.  The 
jewels,  as  well  as  some  of  the  rich  fabrics,  had 
been  seen  before.  Mrs.  Maguire  had  caused 
some  of  the  former  to  be  put  in  more  modern 
settings,  and  much  of  the  silks  and  satins  had* 
been  worked  up  into  garments  for  herself  and 

The  significant  fact  about  the  Ramona  jewels 



is  that  they  correspond  almost  exactly  with  the 
description  given  of  them  in  "  Ramona." 

Title  to  Camulos  ranch  now  vests  in  the 
"del  Valle  Estate,"  incorporated,  and  doubt- 
less always  will  remain  an  asset  of  the  younger 
members.  At  this  writing  its  affairs  are  being 
managed  by  a  son,  Ulpiano  del  Valle,  the 
mother  having  died  March  28,  1905. 




TO  define  a  gentleman  one  might  go  far 
afield  without  disclosing  a  more  pro- 
nounced exemplar  than  is  Hon.  Regi- 
nald F.  del  Valle,  eldest  son  of  Don  Ygnacio 
and  Sefiora  del  Valle,  who  of  all  the  human 
documents  yet  living  is  most  readily  identi- 
fied as  the  person  Mrs.  Jackson  had  in  mind 
in  the  idealization  of  the  character  of  Felipe 
in  the  romance.  Attire  him  in  Spanish  garb, 
as  the  artist  Henry  Sandham  has  properly 
done,  and  the  portraits  are  not  wholly  unlike. 
Senator  del  Valle  left  Camulos  ranch  early 
in  life  to  prepare  himself  for  the  practice  of 
law,  a  profession  he  has  graced  for  a  quarter 
of  a  century  in  Los  Angeles.  Without  undue 
self-seeking  upon  his  part  he  has  during  that 
period  been  honored  with  many  positions  of 
distinction  and  trust.  He  always  has  been  a 
consistent  and  active  member  of  the  Demo- 



cratic  party,  ever  prominent  in  its  councils, 
and  not  infrequently  called  upon  to  preside 
over  its  state  conventions.  Once  he  was  a 
candidate  for  Lieutenant-Governor  of  Califor- 
nia, at  another  time  he  served  a  term  with 
great  credit  in  the  State  Senate,  securing  for 
Los  Angeles  the  State  Normal  school,  and 
again  was  a  delegate  to  the  national  conven- 
tion of  his  party.  At  this  time  he  is  serving 
the  City  of  Los  Angeles  in  the  honorary  posi- 
tion of  a  member  of  the  Municipal  Water 
Board,  a  most  important  post  during  the  period 
of  bringing  the  Owens  River  to  the  city's  gate. 
It  was  understood  that,  in  the  event  of  the  elec- 
tion of  Mr.  Bryan,  in  1896,  Senator  del  Valle 
was  to  have  the  post  of  Ambassador  to  Mexico. 
It  is  an  interesting  circumstance,  in  this  con- 
nection, that  the  romance  of  Mrs.  Jackson 
closes  with  the  arrival  and  settlement  of  Felipe 
and  his  beautiful  bride  in  the  Mexican  capital. 
Of  this  the  author  says :  "  The  story  of  the  ro- 
mance of  their  lives,  being  widely  rumored, 
greatly  enhanced  the  interest  with  which  they 
were  welcomed.  The  beautiful  young  Sefiora 
Moreno  was  the  theme  of  the  city;  and  Felipe's 
bosom  thrilled  with  pride  to  see  the  gentle 
dignity  of  demeanor  by  which  she  was  dis- 
tinguished in  all  assemblages." 



In  the  spring  of  1913  affairs  throughout  the 
Republic  of  Mexico  were  in  such  chaotic  con- 
dition, owing  to  the  movements  of  various 
revolutionary  bodies,  that  the  Administration 
at  Washington  felt  impelled  to  withhold  recog- 
nition of  the  provisional  government  repre- 
sented by  General  Huerta  until  reliable  assur- 
ances could  be  given  of  its  ability  to  maintain 
a  stable  government  and  to  give  adequate  pro- 
tection to  the  lives  and  property  of  all  classes 
of  people.  That  dependable  information  might 
be  obtained  from  the  various  opposing  factions 
in  the  republic,  President  Wilson  determined 
to  send  a  personal  representative  into  Mexico, 
to  report  such  facts  as  might  be  developed 
directly  to  him,  to  the  end  that  such  action  as 
might  finally  be  taken  by  the  government  of 
the  United  States  should  be  based  upon  indis- 
putable facts,  gathered  by  a  person  wholly  dis- 
interested. The  mission  was  a  peculiarly  deli- 
cate one,  calling  for  the  highest  order  of 
intelligence,  of  tact  and  diplomacy.  That  the 
distinction  should  fall  upon  Hon.  Reginald 
Francisco  del  Valle,  of  California,  was  not  cal- 
culated to  surprise  anyone,  since  his  entire 
fitness  for  the  trust  was  and  is  universally 

Senator  del  Valle,  his  wife  and  daughter 



All  are  barred.  "  It  had  been  a  long,  sad  day  for  Ramona ; 
and  as  she  sat  in  her  window  *  *  *  and  looked  at  Alessandro 
pacing  up  and  down,  she  felt  for  the  first  time  *  *  *  that  she 
was  glad  he  loved  her."  "  Ramona," 


The  eldest  son  of  the  mistress  of  Camulos  ranch,  the  same  rela- 
tion as  Felipe  to  Senora  Moreno  of  "  Ramona." 


accompanying  him,  went  to  Mexico,  and  at 
this  writing  he  is  in  the  City  of  Mexico,  per- 
forming the  duty  assigned  him  by  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States. 

This  mission  to  the  capital  of  Mexico  calls 
vividly  to  mind  the  consummation  of  the  story 
of  "  Ramona."  Felipe  and  Ramona,  with  the 
latter's  infant  daughter,  went  to  Monterey, 
where  they  boarded  a  vessel  and  sailed  for 
Mexico  City,  and  were  there  married  and  lived. 

The  somewhat  phenomenal  presentation  of 
"  The  Mission  Play,"  Mr.  John  S.  McGroarty's 
magnificent  and  educational  creation,  at  old 
San  Gabriel,  near  Los  Angeles,  daily  during 
the  spring  and  summer  of  1913,  and  later  in 
San  Francisco  and  other  cities,  has  significance 
in  this  connection  from  the  circumstance  that 
the  title  role  was  assumed  by  Miss  Lucretia 
Louise  del  Valle,  the  only  child  of  the  Senator, 
and  the  further  fact  that  the  old  garret  at 
Camulos  contributed  very  largely  to  the  young 
lady's  strikingly  beautiful  native  wardrobe, 
deemed  essential  to  the  proper  presentation  of 
the  play. 

In  enacting  the  leading  feminine  role  Miss 
del  Valle  is  appareled  to  represent  the  Spanish 
dress  style  of  1847.  The  costly  and  elaborate 

dress  she  wears  in  the  character  belonged  to 



her  grandmother,  Seiiora  del  Valle,  and  the 
beautiful  shawl  that  adorns  her  shoulders  was 
given  to  the  grandmother  by  her  grandfather 
in  1852,  when  the  latter  was  a  member  of  the 
California  legislature.  The  coiffure  worn  by 
her  also  belonged  to  the  grandmother,  and  was 
the  style  of  dressing  the  hair  in  1847. 

Senator  del  Valle  has  related  to  the  authors 
the  effect  of  "  Ramona  "  on  his  mother's  fam- 
ily. They  suffered  in  two  ways,  he  said.  The 
public  accepted  his  mother,  Senora  del  Valle, 
the  widowed  owner  of  Camulos  ranch,  as  the 
original  of  the  character  of  Senora  Moreno  of 
the  romance,  and  to  her  were  attributed  all 
the  faults,  imperfections  and  eccentricities  of 
Senora  Moreno.  Public  prejudice  and  criti- 
cism were  harshly  directed  toward  the  noble 
and  saintly  Senora  del  Valle,  who  was  in  life 
the  direct  opposite  of  Senora  Moreno  in  the 
latter's  hatred  and  cruelty  of  Ramona.  The 
authors  especially  refer  the  reader  to  the  chap- 
ter in  this  volume  of  which  Senora  del  Valle  is 
the  subject. 

For  several  years  subsequent  to  the  publica- 
tion of  "  Ramona,"  1884,  tourist  excursions  to 
California  were  mainly  those  conducted  by  a 
Boston  firm,  and  were  composed  of  New  Eng- 
land people.  Camulos  ranch,  the  home  of  Ra- 



The  widowed  mistress  of  Camulos  ranch,  accepted  as  Senora 
Moreno  of  "  Ramona." 


Daughter  of  Senator  R.  F.  del  Valle,  and  granddaughter  of  the 
mistress  of  Camulos  ranch,  appareled  as  she  appears  in  the  lead- 
ing feminine  role  of  Mr.  John  S.  McGroarty's  magnificent  pro- 
duction, the  Mission  Play,  San  Gabriel,  California,  1913.  The 
fan,  coiffure,  shawl  and  dress  were  owned  by  Senora  del  Valle, 
the  grandmother,  and  show  the  Spanish  style  of  dress  of  1847. 


mona,  was  one  of  the  California  places  of 
greatest  interest  to  them;  and,  by  special  ar- 
rangement, the  Southern  Pacific  train  stopped 
at  the  ranch  for  a  sufficient  time  to  permit  the 
tourists  to  visit  the  home  of  Ramona. 

Senator  del  Valle  yet  grows  indignant  when 
talking  of  the  conduct  of  the  New  Englanders. 
They  were  rude,  he  asserts,  and  wholly  ill- 
mannered.  They  picked  the  flowers  and  fruit, 
swarmed  over  the  yard  and  gardens,  took  valu- 
able articles  for  souvenirs,  and  invaded  the 
dwelling  uninvited;  and,  on  one  occasion,  when 
in  the  room  described  in  the  novel  as  having 
been  the  sleeping  apartment  of  Ramona,  a 
woman  threw  herself  on  the  bed,  exclaiming, 
"  Now  I  can  say  I  have  laid  on  Ramona's 

Such  unseemly  and  rough  conduct  resulted 
in  the  ranch  being  closed  to  the  Boston  firm's 
excursionists,  Senator  del  Valle  himself  writing 
the  order  to  the  firm,  and  declaiming  against 
the  perpetration  of  "  Boston  manners,"  as  he 
put  it,  on  Camulos  ranch. 

At  this  time  parties  are  courteously  and  gra- 
ciously permitted  to  enter  the  ranch  at  the  old 
dwelling;  but  they  are  expected  to  demean 
themselves  properly. 




CAMULOS  ranch  has  by  universal  acclaim 
been  accepted  as  the  home  of  Ramona. 
The  evidence  conclusively  establishes 
this  fact.  Naturally  we  turn  there  for  the 
originals  of  the  principal  characters  of  the 

We  have  heretofore  asserted  that  Blanca 
Yndart  and  Guadalupe,  the  Indian  girl,  both 
wards  of  Sefiora  del  Valle,  the  mistress  of 
Camulos,  most  likely  suggested  to  Mrs.  Jack- 
son, in  the  blending  of  their  lives,  the  charac- 
ter of  Ramona,  and  that  Reginald  F.  del 
Valle,  the  eldest  son  of  the  family,  could  truly 
be  taken  as  the  original  of  Felipe. 

What  Mrs.  Jackson  did  not  see  or  hear  of 
the  del  Valle  household  when  at  Camulos  was 
detailed  to  her  by  the  Coronels.  The  fact  that 
she  did  not  meet  Sefiora  del  Valle,  because  of 
the  latter's  absence  from  home  on  a  mission  of 
mercy  elsewhere,  weighed  but  little.  Mrs. 



Jackson  let  nothing  escape  her.  She  tena- 
ciously and  retentively  sought  full  knowledge 
of  every  person  and  thing  that  were  incident  to 
her  travels. 

On  meeting  the  Coronels  after  her  visit  to 
Camulos  ranch,  Mrs.  Jackson  was  gleeful  and 
enthusiastic  over  her  trip  there.  She  wanted 
all  possible  information  concerning  Senora 
del  Valle,  her  deceased  husband,  Blanca  Yn- 
dart,  Guadalupe,  Reginald  F.  del  Valle,  the 
eldest  son,  and  other  members  of  the  house- 
hold, and  of  the  customs  of  the  ranch. 

The  strong  religious  part  of  the  personality 
of  Senora  del  Valle  was  pictured  to  Mrs.  Jack- 
son by  the  Coronels,  who  knew  that  devout 
woman  intimately;  and  it  may  be  correctly 
asserted  that  the  religious  devotion  portrayed 
in  the  character  of  Senora  Moreno  was  sug- 
gested by  the  saintly  and  religious  life  of 
Senora  del  Valle. 

But  the  harsh  and  unlovable  disposition  of 
Senora  Moreno — her  haughty,  merciless  and 
cruel  nature  which  crushed  Ramona  and  drove 
her  out  into  the  night  with  an  Indian  sheep- 
shearer — was  never  intended  by  Mrs.  Jackson 
to  be  attributed  to  Senora  del  Valle,  whose  dis- 
position, charity,  nobleness  and  sympathy  were 

the  beautiful  gems  in  her  sweet  character. 



Mrs.  Jackson  desired  it  to  be  distinctly  un- 
derstood that  she  was  not  writing  history  in 
giving  to  the  world  the  story  of  "  Ramona." 
Nowhere  in  the  novel  does  she  specify  Camulos 
ranch  by  name.  The  character  of  Sefiora  Mo- 
reno was  of  her  own  creation,  into  whose  life 
were  injected  these  features  of  Sefiora  del  Valle : 
widowhood,  the  owner  and  mistress  of  an  old 
California  hacienda,  devoutness  to  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  having  a  son  within  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  magnanimous  character  of  Felipe. 

And  it  is  because  Mrs.  Jackson  drew  from 
Sefiora  del  Valle  the  good  qualities  given  to 
Senora  Moreno  of  "Ramona,"  that  makes  the 
former  an  important  and  interesting  person- 
age in  the  story  of  "  Ramona."  And  it  was 
Sefiora  del  Valle  who  was  the  mistress  of 
Camulos  ranch,  who  maintained  the  chapel 
there,  from  whose  dress  the  torn  altar  cloth 
was  made,  who  maintained  the  Mission  bells, 
whose  hospitality  was  extended  to  all  who 
came  upon  her  estate,  and  who  "caused  to  be 
set  up  upon  every  one  of  the  soft  rounded  hills 
which  made  the  beautiful  rolling  sides  of  that 
part  of  the  valley,  a  large  wooden  cross,  .  .  . 
that  the  faithful  may  be  reminded  to  pray." 

Senora  Ysabel  del  Valle  was  one  of  the 
noblest  women  ever  created,  distinguished  far 



and  wide  for  those  characteristics  that  made 
her  life  a  distinct  blessing  to  all  with  whom 
she  came  in  contact,  and  her  death  a  loss  from 
which  a  wide  community  has  not  yet  ceased  to 
suffer  acutely  or  to  mourn  without  surcease. 

In  older  times  saints  were  made  of  such  ma- 
terial; and  were  we  living  in  the  fourteenth 
rather  than  the  twentieth  century  we  certainly 
would  have  a  Saint  Ysabel. 

So  true,  so  sincere,  so  devout,  so  constant, 
was  her  devotion  to  the  Church  of  Rome,  that 
when  she  died  Bishop  Conaty  of  Los  Angeles 
took  it  upon  himself  to  make  all  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  funeral,  saying  to  the  family, 
"she  belongs  to  us,  not  to  you,  and  the 
Church  claims  all  the  privileges  of  caring  for 
its  own." 

From  "The  Tidings,"  the  authorized  organ 
of  the  Catholic  Church  of  the  Los  Angeles 
diocese,  we  take  the  following  concerning 
Sefiora  del  Valle  and  her  funeral: 

"  Sefiora  del  Valle  was  the  daughter  of  Don 
Cerval  Varela  and  Dona  Ascencion  Avila. 
Don  Varela  took  an  active  part  in  the  war 
with  the  United  States  and  led  an  attack 
against  the  Americans  at  Rancho  del  Chino. 
He  was  the  possessor  of  large  tracts  of  land  on 

which  is  now  Boyle  Heights  and  was  owner  of 



the  site  where  the  Catholic  orphanage  now 

"  Sefiorita  del  Varela  married  Don  Ygnacio 
del  Valle,  a  man  prominent  in  the  history  of 
California,  and  who  controlled  many  of  the 
large  ranches  in  the  San  Fernando  Valley. 
The  ceremony  was  performed  at  the  Church 
of  Our  Lady  of  the  Angels,  Los  Angeles,  De- 
cember 14,  1851. 

"As  the  funeral  cortege  passed  the  orphan 
asylum  on  Boyle  Heights  three  hundred  or 
more  of  the  children  of  that  institution,  dressed 
in  white,  stood  in  line  by  the  roadside  and 
recited  aloud  the  prayers  for  the  dead. 

"  To  the  few  mourners  who  had  lived  in  the 
early  days  and  whose  minds  were  treasured 
with  the  memories  of  Senora  del  Valle's  youth, 
who  had  witnessed  the  trend  of  her  young  life 
as  it  molded  itself  into  the  woman  and  she 
became  known  as  an  exemplar  among  a  people 
where  the  reign  of  honor  and  hospitality  seemed 
to  reach  no  bounds,  the  spectacle  of  these 
motherless  children  appealed  most  strikingly, 
and  the  days  of  the  old  Camulos  were  again  re- 
called; days  when  great  herds  of  stock  wan- 
dered over  the  hills  and  valleys  of  the  famous 
rancho,  and  the  orchards  hung  heavy  with  the 
products  of  the  fruitful  seasons. 


r     ^jiLfai^fc" 


5  . 






<   2 


i      O< 


"  Life  was  much  the  same  at  Camulos  as  on 
the  other  great  ranches,  and  as  the  travel-worn 
stranger  passed  on  his  journey,  by  horse  or 
afoot,  he  stopped  for  a  while  at  the  household 
where  a  welcome  was  never  wanting. 

"  The  mistress  of  the  rancho  attended  per- 
sonally to  the  details  of  the  home-life,  and  from 
the  break  of  dawn  when  the  chapel  bells  called 
all  to  the  morning  devotion,  she  watched  over 
her  family  and  the  servants  of  the  household 
with  a  firmness  and  gentleness  of  manner  which 
won  a  love  and  respect  that  time  has  never 

"Instances  of  Sefiora  del  Valle's  charity  are 
innumerable,  and  race  or  creed  did  not  enter 
into  her  thoughts  when,  whatever  the  hour  of 
need,  she  was  called  upon  to  care  for  the  poor 
or  distressed. 

"  She  had  been  removed  to  Los  Angeles  sev- 
eral years  before  her  death,  where  she  made 
her  home  with  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Josefa  For- 
ster,  at  whose  residence  she  died.  In  her  last 
moments  she  begged  to  be  taken  to  Camulos 
that  she  might  die  amid  scenes  which  were 
the  dearest  to  her  on  earth,  where  her  children 
had  been  raised  and  where  her  husband  was 
lying  under  the  altar  of  the  little  chapel." 

"  The  Tidings  "  is  mistaken  as  to  the  burial 



place  of  the  husband  of  Senora  del  Valle.  He 
was  buried  in  the  family  graveyard  at  Camulos, 
but  his  remains  were  afterward  removed  and 
reinterred  in  the  Catholic  Cemetery  at  Los 

At  the  close  of  the  funeral  exercises  after 
the  absolution,  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  Conaty  said: 

"  While  it  is  contrary  to  the  established  rules 
of  the  parish  to  deliver  a  eulogy  over  the  dead, 
I  feel  that  this  occasion  is  one  which  will  allow 
the  rule  to  be  set  aside  out  of  respect  for  the 
memory  of  the  services  rendered  religion  by 
the  good  woman  whose  death  is  universally 

"  She  represented  a  type  of  womanhood,  the 
glory  of  the  Church,  as  well  as  of  the  com- 
munity in  which  it  is  found.  She  was  a  woman 
whose  life  was  dominated  by  the  spirit  of  abso- 
lute and  simple  faith,  which  led  her  through  a 
long  life  to  untold  deeds  of  kindness  and  charity. 
Her  faith  was  something  more  than  profession; 
it  expressed  itself  in  the  everyday  act  of  re- 
ligion and  charity. 

"  Her  home  was  the  center  of  her  affections, 
and  the  love  of  husband  and  children  caught 
its  glow  from  the  love  of  God,  which  char- 
acterized her  entire  life.  The  ranch  home  at 
Camulos  was  the  home  of  hospitality  and  the 



Made  of  the  first  gold  found  in  California.    (Permission  of  Miss 
Annie  B.  Picker,  Pasadena.) 


center  of  the  religious  life  of  all  who  came  in 
contact  with  it.  Her  love  of  faith  led  her  to 
a  love  for  the  altar  and  the  priesthood,  and  the 
first  gift  of  her  olive  harvest  was  in  the  oil 
needed  for  the  Holy  Thursday  consecration  in 
the  Diocesan  Cathedral. 

"  As  a  young  woman,  wife  and  mother,  the 
Sefiora  of  Camulos  was  a  model  of  Christian 
womanhood,  and  she  leaves  the  sweetest  mem- 
ories of  all  that  stands  for  goodness  of  life  in 
Christian  virtue.  This  type  of  woman  is  the 
outcome  of  faith  in  the  Church  which  she 
loved.  It  is  needed  in  our  civilization  to  teach 
us  the  beauty  of  home-life  in  which  the  service 
of  God  is  the  source  and  spirit  of  God,  the  in- 
spiration. Such  women  are  the  bulwarks  of 
our  civilization  and  the  pride  of  our  humanity." 

To  the  smallest  detail  Sefiora  del  Valle  was 
buried  as  a  church  dignitary  would  have  been, 
and  when  asked  for  the  expense  bill  by  a  fam- 
ily well  able  and  more  than  willing  to  pay,  the 
members  of  it  were  denied  the  privilege  of  par- 
ticipating even  in  that. 

After  Don  Ygnacio  del  Valle  passed  away, 
and  until  her  own  death,  Sefiora  del  Valle  was 
never  seen  with  uncovered  head.  The  nature  of 
her  husband's  illness  had  been  such  that  he  could 
not  lie  down  with  comfort,  and  he  died  while 


sitting  in  a  chair.  His  devoted  wife  sat  close 
to  and  directly  in  front  of  him,  and  when  the 
final  moment  came  and  the  last  flickering  spark 
of  life  went  out,  his  head  gently  dropped  upon 
that  of  his  wife,  their  foreheads  meeting.  The 
Senora  wore  at  the  time  a  light  mantilla,  a  cus- 
tom of  Spanish  ladies.  Her  husband's  life  had 
gone  out  while  his  head  rested  upon  it,  and 
thereafter  this  covering  was  never  removed, 
day  or  night,  save  upon  a  few  occasions  when 
it  became  necessary  to  replace  it  temporarily 
with  a  bonnet.  This  circumstance  accentuates 
the  Sefiora's  unyielding  devotion  to  whatever 
she  regarded  as  a  sacred  duty. 




IT  may  be  correctly  asserted  that  nearly 
every  character  of  "  Ramona "  had  its 
original,  either  in  whole  or  in  part.  Mr. 
Abbot  Kinney  was  a  co-commissioner  with 
Mrs.  Jackson  in  an  official  investigation  into 
the  condition  of  the  Mission  Indians  of  South- 
ern California.  Referring  to  their  joint  re- 
port to  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior,  Mr.  Kin- 
ney says :  "  It  was  made  by  Mrs.  Jackson  and 
myself,  and  it  was  in  the  investigations  that 
led  to  the  making  of  it  that  the  book  '  Ra- 
mona '  was  born.  We  actually  saw  some  of 
the  incidents  described;  many  of  the  facts  were 
developed  by  the  witnesses,  all  of  whom  we 
examined  under  oath.  We  met  with  many  of 
the  characters  whose  pictures  were  afterwards 
drawn  with  startling  fidelity  by  Mrs.  Jackson 
in  the  pages  of  her  book." 

Mr.  Henry  Sandham,  the  "  Century's " 
artist,  who  accompanied  Mrs.  Jackson  on  her 
journeys  through  Southern  California,  wrote 


thus:  "As  for  the  characters  themselves,  I 
have  now  in  my  possession  sketches  and 
studies  made  from  life  at  the  time  of  meeting 
the  originals,  meetings  that  were  often  as  much 
fraught  with  meaning  for  me  as  they  were  for 
Mrs.  Jackson." 

In  other  chapters  of  this  volume  it  is  stated 
that  the  character  of  Sefiora  Moreno  was 
suggested  to  Mrs.  Jackson  in  part  by  Dona 
Ysabel  del  Valle,  widowed  mistress  of  Camulos 
ranch;  that  Ramona  was  a  blending  of  two 
members  of  the  del  Valle  family,  Blanca 
Yndart,  a  Spanish  girl,  now  Mrs.  James  Ma- 
guire,  residing  with  her  daughter  at  Los  An- 
geles, and  Guadalupe,  a  Mission  Indian  girl, 
given  to  Sefiora  del  Valle  when  a  child  by  a 
Piru  chief;  and  that  in  Felipe  was  the  por- 
trayal of  the  eldest  son  of  the  mistress  of 
Camulos  ranch,  Don  Reginald  Francisco  del 
Valle.  ,  Guadalupe  is  married  and  now  resides 
in  Arizona. 


It  has  been  a  vain  search  to  identify  any 
living  person  as  Alessandro.  Sheep-shearing 
bands  in  Southern  California  were  numerous 
at  the  time  laid  for  the  story,  and  each  had  its 



In  the  Coronel  Collection  at  the  Los  An- 
geles Chamber  of  Commerce  is  a  photograph 
of  Rojerio  Rocha,  choir  leader  at  San  Fer- 
nando Mission  and  a  violin  player,  whose  lands 
were  shamefully  appropriated  by  white  men, 
one  of  whom  is  now  a  well-to-do  and  promi- 
nent resident  of  Los  Angeles.  This  Indian 
singer  and  violinist  was  well  known  to  the 
Coronels,  and  they  told  Mrs.  Jackson  of  him  in 
detail.  He  has  been  declared  by  many  to  have 
suggested  the  character  of  Alessandro. 

Like  Alessandro,  Rojerio  was  a  violin  player 
and  a  singer.  He  played  from  notes  and  had 
a  fine  voice,  the  finest  in  the  old  Mission  choir. 
The  old  people  about  the  Mission  even  now 
tell  of  the  wonderful  playing  of  the  violin  by 

He  was  also  an  expert  blacksmith  and  silver- 
smith, and  performed  both  services  at  the  Mis- 
sion for  many  years.  He  formed  much  of  the 
beaten  gold  and  silver  plate  used  by  the  Mis- 
sion fathers,  and  it  was  his  skill  that  fashioned 
the  elaborately  silver-ornamented  bridles  used 
by  the  wealthy  senores  of  the  Mission  days. 

Rojerio  married  and  continued  to  live  at  the 
Mission  until  the  padres  were  driven  from  it. 
Then  General  Pico  gave  him  a  small  tract  of 
fertile  land  three  miles  to  the  east  of  the  Mis- 



sion,  near  Pacoima  Creek.  But  the  white  men 
were  driving  the  Indians  from  their  posses- 
sions, and  one  day  Rojerio  and  his  family,  with 
all  their  belongings,  were  forced  into  a  wagon, 
and  taken  away  and  dumped  on  the  San  Fer- 
nando county  road.  That  night  it  rained,  and 
the  outcasts  were  without  shelter  or  food. 
Rojerio's  wife  was  then  quite  sickly,  and  be- 
cause of  the  exposure  she  died  in  the  road 
where  they  had  been  put. 

Rojerio  never  forgot  the  awful  wrong.  He 
had  deep  disdain  for  Americans  and  their  honor. 
He  knew  of  the  location  of  the  mine  which 
furnished  the  Mission  padres  the  gold  which 
made  the  San  Fernando  Mission  famous  for 
its  gold  plate.  A  short  time  before  his  death 
Rojerio  showed  to  an  Indian  friend  a  large 
nugget  of  almost  pure  gold,  saying  that  he 
would  tell  him  of  the  location  of  the  mine,  if 
a  deed  were  so  drawn  that  no  American  could 
ever  get  possession  of  it. 

When  in  1846  the  San  Fernando  Mission 
padres  anticipated  and  feared  an  attack  by  the 
Americans  they  hurried  away  all  the  gold 
plate  in  the  Mission  and  secretly  buried  it.  In 
late  years  Rojerio  was  credited  with  being  the 
only  living  person  who  knew  where  the  valu- 
able treasure  was  hidden,  and  he  declared  that 



Choir  leader  and  violin  player  at  San  Fernando  Mission,  whose 

attainments    Mrs.    Jackson    used   in   creating 


the   character   of 


he  was  one  of  the  persons  who  carried  the  plate 
from  the  Mission  and  buried  it;  yet  he  so  hated 
the  Americans  because  of  the  wrong  done  him 
by  white  men,  that  he  persistently  refused  to 
disclose  the  place  where  the  golden  treasure 
was  secreted. 

A  few  weeks  before  his  death  he  took  from 
an  old  chest  in  his  home  a  part  of  a  sheep's 
hide,  tanned  on  the  inside,  on  which  were 
tracings,  arrows  and  crosses  and  other  char- 
kcters.  This  skin  he  gave  to  an  old  Indian 
companion,  with  the  statement  that  the  trac- 
ings and  marks  on  it  had  been  made  by  the 
Mission  padres,  and  showed  the  location  of  the 
lost  Mission  plate,  said  to  be  of  the  value  of 
not  less  than  one  million  dollars. 

Later  this  sheepskin  was  delivered  by  the 
Indian  friend  of  Rojerio's,  after  the  latter's 
death,  to  some  white  men,  for  a  price  paid  and 
a  promise  to  give  a  good  share  of  the  gold 
plate,  if  found.  One  of  these  men  was  a  client 
of  the  writer,  and  the  latter  undertook,  with 
others,  the  translation  and  deciphering  of  this 
chart.  All  agreed  that  the  drawing  led  from 
the  Mission  buildings  eastward  to  Pacoima 
canon,  thence  up  the  creek  from  the  base  line 
of  the  mountains  one  mile.  A  marking  on  the 
skin  which  we  interpreted  to  indicate  a  certain 


sycamore  tree  proved  accurate.  The  tree  stood 
on  the  south  side  of  the  canon  at  the  edge 
of  the  creek's  bank.  Directly  across  from  this 
tree  was  a  flat  rock  imbedded  in  the  side  of 
the  canon,  which  was  another  of  the  points 
indicated  by  the  marks  on  the  skin. 

Distances  were  minutely  measured.  Every 
effort  to  locate  the  spot  where  the  golden 
treasure  lay  was  made  with  scientific  accurate- 
ness.  All  agreed  as  to  the  place  where  dig- 
ging should  begin.  The  utmost  secrecy  was 
attempted.  The  work  of  uncovering  the 
hunted  gold  began.  Watchers  were  stationed 
up  and  down  the  canon. 

The  first  work  was  in  sinking  a  shaft  to  a 
depth  of  twenty  feet,  as  indicated  by  the  sheep- 
skin chart.  Then  a  drift  was  cut  to  the  west, 
as  indicated  by  the  drawings  on  the  skin. 
Day  after  day,  and  often  at  night,  the  work 

Two  strangers  appeared  on  the  scene,  de- 
claring that  they  knew  the  men  there  were 
hunting  for  the  buried  plate  belonging  to  the 
San  Fernando  Mission,  and  if  the  gold  were 
found  the  Church  would  claim  it.  The  lawyers 
advised  continuing  the  work,  and  if  the  treas- 
ure should  be  found  then  to  meet  the  demand 
of  the  Church,  if  any. 



When  what  the  expert  ground  men  declared 
to  have  been  an  old  tunnel  was  encountered 
in  running  the  drift  from  the  bottom  of  the 
twenty-foot  shaft,  there  was  great  consterna- 
tion and  hope.  All  were  enthused.  Night 
shifts  were  put  on.  They  dug  and  dug  on,  but 
in  vain. 

Hope  died,  and  the  attempt  to  find  the  golden 
plate  with  the  aid  of  Rojerio's  sheepskin  was 

This  identical  sheepskin  is  in  the  possession 
of  one  of  the  authors. 

Seiiora  de  Coronel  relates  and  vouches  for  the 
correctness  of  the  following  story  of  Rojerio, 
which  he  told  her  and  her  husband  with  tears 
and  sobs.  He  went  to  them  as  the  refuge 
and  helper  of  the  troubled  Indian. 

Pacoima  Creek,  which  empties  into  San  Fer- 
nando valley  near  the  town  of  that  name,  was 
swollen  and  filled  with  a  torrent  of  water. 
The  white  men,  who  had  taken  his  land 
and  resented  his  remonstrance,  tied  Rojerio's 
hands  behind  him,  fastened  a  rope  around  his 
waist,  securing  the  other  end  to  a  rock,  then 
threw  him  into  the  creek,  and  left  him  to  what 
seemed  certain  death. 

Rojerio  was  swiftly  carried  to  the  length 
of  the  rope,  and  then  into  a  sycamore  tree,  to 



the  branches  of  which  he  desperately  clung  for 
a  day  and  a  night,  when  the  water  in  the  swol- 
len stream  subsided  and  he  managed  to  free 
his  hands  and  escape. 

Rojerio  died  in  1904  at  an  age  supposed 
to  have  been  near  one  hundred  years.  He  was 
a  giant  in  stature,  and  a  Hercules  in  strength. 
A  century  of  years  did  not  bend  his  form. 
He  was  "  as  straight  as  an  Indian "  to  the 
time  of  his  death. 

The  life  of  this  Indian  must  have  impressed 
Mrs.  Jackson,  and  his  accomplishments  and 
sufferings  doubtless  suggested  some  of  the  fea- 
tures and  experiences  of  Alessandro.  An  In- 
dian who  could  sing  well  and  play  the  violin 
entertainingly  was  a  rarity.  Rojerio  is  the 
only  one  possessing  such  accomplishments  of 
whom  the  Coronels  told  Mrs.  Jackson,  and  it 
is  a  reasonable  inference  that  the  musical  at- 
tainments Mrs.  Jackson  gave  to  the  Indian 
Alessandro,  the  hero  of  her  novel,  were  sug- 
gested by  the  story  of  Rojerio. 

Mrs.  Jackson  was  particularly  interested  in 
the  sad  experience  of  Pablo  Assis,  chief  of  the 
Temecula  Indians.  After  returning  to  Colo- 
rado Springs  she  wrote  to  the  Coronels  of  her 
intention  to  write  a  novel,  "  in  which,"  quot- 
ing from  the  letter,  "will  be  set  forth  some 




o     2: 

3   n 

E:  > 

3      5* 

-.  3 



Indian  experiences  in  a  way  to  move  people's 
hearts.  ...  I  would  like  an  account,  written 
in  as  much  detail  as  you  remember,  of  the  time 
when  you,  dear  Mr.  Coronel,  went  to  Temecula 
and  marked  off  the  boundaries  of  the  Indians' 
lands  there.  How  many  Indians  were  living 
there  then?  What  crops  had  they?  Had  they 
a  chapel?  Was  Pablo  Assis,  their  chief,  alive? 
I  would  like  to  know  his  whole  history,  life, 
death,  and  all,  minutely/' 

Mrs.  Jackson  made  her  Alessandro  the  son 
of  Pablo  Assis,  the  Temecula  Indian  chief,  and 
the  sheep-shearers  Temecula  Indians.  Pablo 
Assis  had  a  son,  but  his  name,  disposition  and 
attainments  are  unknown. 

The  experiences  of  Alessandro,  as  portrayed 
by  Mrs.  Jackson,  aside  from  the  Ramona  love 
part,  were  real  as  to  different  Indians.  There 
were  the  Temecula  ejectment,  the  wanderings 
of  members  of  that  tribe  and  the  killing  of 
Juan  Diego,  a  crazy  Indian,  on  a  spur  of 
the  San  Jacinto  Mountains,  by  Sam  Temple, 
for  horse-stealing,  just  as  related  in  the 
story  to  have  been  the  tragic  death  of  Ales- 

So  far  as  can  be  discovered  the  character  of 
Alessandro  must  be  taken  as  original  with  Mrs. 
Jackson,  created  by  her  without  reference  to 



any   particular  person,   unless  it  was   Rojerio 


What  has  been  already  said  as  to  the  char- 
acter of  Ramona  may  be  supplemented  by  as- 
serting that  she  was  not  Ramona  Diego,  wife 
of  the  Indian  killed  for  horse  stealing  by  Sam 
Temple,  and  known  as  Ramona  Lubo,  or  the 
Cahuilla  Ramona.  This  woman  is  squat,  fat 
and  unattractive.  She  and  her  baskets  have 
been  commercialized  to  a  ridiculous  extent. 
Susceptible  tourists  travel  far  to  see  her,  buy 
the  baskets  she  offers  for  sale  and  look  upon 
her  as  the  real  Ramona  of  Mrs.  Jackson's 
novel.  Far  from  it. 

The  identity  of  names  in  this  instance  does 
not  prove  identity  of  person.  "  Ramona  "  is  a 
common  name  among  Indians  and  Mexicans. 
It  is  the  feminine  of  "  Ramon,"  which  means 
the  tops  of  branches  cut  for  food  for  sheep  in 
snowy  weather.  The  name  is  beautiful  and 
easily  spoken. 

In  a  previous  chapter  we  have  told  of  how 
Mrs.  Jackson  was  attracted  by  the  name  "  Ra- 
mona" when  she  first  heard  it,  and  of  her 

declaration  to  the  Coronels  that  she  would  use 



Wife  of  Juan  Diego,  killed  by  Jim  Farrar  of  "  Ramona,"  with 
her  star  basket.  She  is  an  expert  basket  maker  and  hundreds  of 
baskets,  many  not  made  by  her,  have  been  sold  as  her  product, 
and  under  the  erroneous  statement  that  she  is  the  "  Real 


the  name  as  the  title  to  her  proposed  novel. 

Every  woman  Mrs.  Jackson  met  or  heard  of 
in  California  bearing  the  name  "  Ramona "  is 
supposed  to  be  the  real  Ramona  of  her  genius. 
Mrs.  Hartsel,  of  Temecula,  who  was  Mrs.  Ra- 
mona Wolfe,  is  accordingly,  by  some,  declared 
to  be  the  real  Ramona;  but  she  was  not. 

The  care  with  which  Mrs.  Jackson  selected 
the  names  for  her  characters  is  evidenced  by  a 
letter  from  her  to  Senor  and  Sefiora  de  Coronel 
containing  the  following:  "I  am  still  at  work 
on  my  story  ('  Ramona  ')•  It  is  more  than 
half  done.  I  wish  you  would  ask  those  Indian 
women  who  made  the  lace  for  me  what  would 
be,  in  their  Pala  or  San  Luis  Rey  dialect,  the 
words  for  Blue  Eyes.  I  want  to  have  a  little 
child  called  by  that  name  in  my  story,  if  the 
Indian  name  is  not  too  harsh  to  the  ear." 

The  "  little  child  "  proved  to  be  the  first-born 
of  Alessandro  and  Ramona.  It  had  blue  eyes, 
a  natural  repetition  of  the  eyes  of  Ramona's 
paternal  Scotch  ancestors.  The  child  was 
named  "  Eyes  of  the  Sky,"  but  the  Indian  word 
is  not  given  in  the  novel.  It  is  related,  how- 
ever, that  at  the  baptismal,  "when  Father 
Gaspara  took  the  little  one  in  his  arms,  and 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross  on  her  brow,  he 
pronounced  with  some  difficulty  the  syllables 



of  the  Indian  name,  which  meant  '  Blue  Eyes,' 
or  •  Eyes  of  the  Sky.1  " 

When  asked  concerning  this  incident  Seiiora 
de  Coronel  said:  "I  remember  Mrs.  Jackson's 
letter  asking  for  the  Indian  name  for  '  Blue 
Eyes.'  My  husband  answered  it.  He  knew  the 
name  and  gave  it  to  Mrs.  Jackson.  I  cannot 
now  recall  it.  It  is  a  peculiar  name." 

The  selection  of  the  names  of  two  of  the 
helpers  at  Camulos  ranch  and  Felipe,  the  eld- 
est son  of  Senora  Moreno,  may  be  reasonably 
conjectured.  When  at  San  Luis  Key  Mis- 
sion Mrs.  Jackson  attended  the  funeral  serv- 
ices of  an  old  Indian  woman  named  Margarita, 
whose  life  was  told  to  Mrs.  Jackson,  and 
greatly  interested  her.  Margarita  was  a  sis- 
ter of  Manuelito,  a  famous  chief  of  several 
bands  of  the  San  Luisenos.  Mrs.  Jackson  went 
ten  miles  from  San  Luis  Rey  Mission  to  the 
home  of  this  old  woman,  at  Potrero,  passing 
the  night  there.  The  name  Margarita  she 
gave  to  "the  youngest  and  prettiest  of  the 
maids"  at  Camulos. 

Mrs.  Jackson  attended  a  sheep-shearing  at 
La  Puente  ranch,  a  part  of  the  late  "  Lucky  " 
Baldwin's  estate,  and  thus  describes  an  incident 
of  the  occasion :  "  As  soon  as  the  shearers  per- 
ceived that  their  pictures  were  being  drawn  by 




the  artist  in  our  party,  they  were  all  agog;  by 
twos  and  threes  they  left  their  work  and 
crowded  around  the  carriage,  peering,  com- 
menting, asking  to  have  their  portraits  taken, 
quizzing  those  whose  features  they  recognized. 
All  were  ready  to  pose  and  stand,  even  in  the 
most  difficult  attitudes,  as  long  as  was  required. 
Those  who  had  done  so  asked,  like  children, 
if  their  names  could  not  be  put  in  the  book; 
so  I  wrote  them  all  down :  '  Juan  Canero, 
Juan  Rivera,  Felipe  Ybara,  Jose  Jesus  Lopez, 
and  Domingo  Garcia.' " 

Here  is  evidenced  her  knowledge  of  the  name 
Felipe.  Juan  Canero  could  have  reasonably 
suggested  Juan  Canito,  the  name  of  the  head- 
shepherd  at  Camulos. 

Father  Salvierderra 

The  noble  character  given  to  Father  Salvier- 
derra by  Mrs.  Jackson  is  not  overdrawn. 
There  were  many  of  the  Franciscan  Fathers 
who  lived  the  pure,  sweet,  unselfish  life  por- 
trayed of  this  priest  in  "  Ramona." 

There  was  an  original  of  Father  Salvier- 
derra. The  statement  of  this  fact  by  Mr. 
Henry  Sandham,  the  artist,  should  be  con- 
clusive. He  bore  a  commission  from  the 



"  Century  Magazine  "  to  accompany  Mrs.  Jack- 
son on  her  California  travels.  It  is  his  work 
that  adorns  Little,  Brown  &  Company's  edi- 
tion of  "  Ramona,"  1900.  One  of  the  paintings 
from  which  the  illustrations  are  taken  is  the 
original  of  Father  Salvierderra. 

Mr.  Sandham  thus  refers  to  his  work  with 
Mrs.  Jackson:  "At  the  time  of  the  California 
sojourn  I  knew  neither  the  name  nor  the  exact 
details  of  the  proposed  book;  but  I  did  know 
that  the  general  plan  was  a  defense  of  the 
Mission  Indians,  together  with  a  plea  for  the 
preservation  of  the  Mission  buildings,  and  so 
on;  the  whole  to  be  enveloped  in  the  mystery 
and  poetry  of  romance.  I  had  thus  sufficient 
knowledge  of  the  spirit  of  the  text  to  work 
with  keener  zest  upon  the  sketches  for  the 
illustrations;  sketches  which,  it  may  be  of  in- 
terest to  know,  were  always  made  on  the  spot, 
with  Mrs.  Jackson  close  at  hand,  suggesting 
emphasis  to  this  object  or  prominence  to  that, 
as  it  was  to  have  special  mention  in  the  book. 
...  As  for  the  characters  themselves,  I  have 
now  in  my  possession  sketches  and  studies 
made  from  life  at  the  time  of  my  meeting  the 
originals — a  meeting  that  was  often  as  much 
fraught  with  meaning  for  me  as  it  was  for 
Mrs.  Jackson.  ...  As  illustrative  of  the  au- 



thor's  fidelity  to  truth  in  character  drawing,  I 
shall  mention  but  one  of  the  many  real  char- 
acters; namely,  the  original  of  Father  Salvier- 
derra.  This  character  is  positively  startling 
in  its  accurateness.  I  knew  the  original  Father 
well,  and  often  sought  his  assistance  and  advice. 
I  remember  I  needed  him  once  while  at  work  in 
the  Santa  Barbara  Mission,  and  failing  to  find 
him  in  any  other  of  his  favorite  haunts,  I 
entered  the  church,  where  I  found  him  kneel- 
ing before  the  altar  praying.  He  looked  up  as 
I  entered,  and  with  his  usual  lovable  smile, 
said :  *  I  will  be  with  you  in  a  few  minutes,  my 
son.'  Shortly  he  arose  to  his  feet,  threw  his 
arm  around  my  neck,  and  leaning  on  my 
shoulder  (he  was  then  well  past  seventy  years 
of  age)  he  asked  as  we  passed  down  the  cor- 
ridor, '  What  can  I  do  to  help  you? '  In  this 
question  lay  the  keynote  of  his  whole  life. 
At  another  time,  as  we  walked  through  the 
garden,  he  stooped,  and  putting  his  hand  under 
one  of  the  gorgeous  California  poppies,  re- 
marked, as  he  turned  its  face  up  to  me,  '  Is  not 
our  little  brother  beautiful? '  ...  In  my  studio 
I  have  the  venerable  Father's  complete  costume, 
given  me  at  the  time  I  was  making  the  *  Ra- 
mona'  sketches;  it  includes  the  cassock,  cowl, 
sandals  and  hempen  girdle  with  its  symbolical 



five  knots.  The  sandals  are  well  worn  and  the 
cowl  bleached  and  faded  by  the  sun — marks 
of  the  endless  round  of  toils  and  duties  so 
faithfully  described  by  Mrs.  Jackson." 

The  omission  by  Mr.  Sandham  of  the  true 
name  of  the  original  of  Father  Salvierderra  left 
the  identity  of  that  person  in  doubt.  But  the 
authors  labored  unceasingly  to  identify  the 
original  and  with  success. 

The  fact  that  the  original  was  one  of  the 
Fathers  at  Old  Mission,  Santa  Barbara,  did 
not  give  certainty  to  the  labor  of  discovery; 
for  there  have  been,  as  there  now  are,  many 
saintly  characters  within  the  confines  of  that 
Mission  whose  devout  and  unselfish  lives  have 
been  a  part  of  the  work  and  history  of  the 
Catholic  Church  in  Southern  California. 

Father  Joseph  J.  O'Keefe,  of  Old  Mission, 
Santa  Barbara,  was  suggested  to  the  authors 
as  the  original  of  Father  Salvierderra.  This 
thought  gave  a  lead  to  the  real  Father  Sal- 
vierderra of  "  Ramona."  He  was  not  Father 
O'Keefe,  but  he  died  in  the  arms  of  this  noble 
and  venerable  Franciscan,  who  yet  lives,  and, 
though  feeble,  is  still  in  active  service  at  St. 
Francis'  Orphanage,  Watsonville,  California. 

We  may  positively  and  correctly  assert  that 
the  original  of  Father  Salvierderra  was  Fr. 








Father  Francisco  de  Jesus  Sanchez,  O.  S.  F.,  Old  Mission 
Santa  Barbara,  the  original  of  Father  Salvierderra  of  "  Ramona." 
"  His  benevolent  face  is  well  known  throughout  the  country. 
*  *  *  He  gives  away  garment  after  garment,  leaving  himself 
without  protection  against  cold.  *  *  *  He  often  kneels  from 
midnight  to  dawn  on  the  stone  floor  of  the  church,  praying 
and  chanting  psalms."  (Mrs.  Jackson  in  "Glimpses  of  Cali- 
fornia and  the  Missions") 


Francisco  de  Jesus  Sanchez,  O.F.M.,  of  the 
Santa  Barbara  Mission.  The  records  and 
traditions  of  this  Mission,  and  evidence  from 
other  sources,  establish  this  fact. 

The  Rev.  Father  Conradine  Wallbraun,  of 
the  Old  Mission,  Santa  Barbara,  answering  a 
letter  the  authors  wrote  to  the  Rev.  Father 
Guardian  of  that  Mission  concerning  the  origi- 
nal of  Father  Salvierderra,  says  in  part:  "The 
Rev.  Fr.  Guardian  of  our  Mission  has  author- 
ized me  to  give  you  the  desired  information 
about  the  noble  character,  Rev.  Father  Sal- 
vierderra, in  '  Ramona.'  The  hero  is  Rev.  Fr. 
Francisco  Sanchez,  O.F.M.,  who  died  here  in 
the  Old  Mission  in  1884,  at  the  side  of  Rev. 
Fr.  J.  O'Keefe,  O.F.M.,  who  is  still  living  at 
our  establishment  in  Watsonville,  California, 
St.  Francis'  Orphanage.  The  Rev.  Fr. 
O'Keefe,  O.F.M.,  was  then  not  well  past 
seventy,  since  he  was  born  in  1843.  The  death 
of  Fr.  Francisco  Sanchez  is  well  described  by 
Mrs.  Helen  Hunt  Jackson.  Fr.  O'Keefe,  in 
whose  arms  the  saintly  Father  expired,  can 
testify  to  it." 

At  the  request  of  the  authors  Father  O'Keefe 
has  written  of  Father  Francisco  Sanchez  and 
his  death  expressly  for  this  volume,  and  the 
article  is  here  given  in  full: 



44  Many  are  the  incidents  that  could  be  re- 
lated about  the  Reverend  Father  de  Jesus 
Sanchez,  O.F.M.,  regarding  his  great  mission- 
ary zeal  and  unbounded  charity  to  all,  his  self- 
denial  and  patience  in  suffering.  I  am  sorry 
I  am  so  disabled,  owing  to  the  condition  of 
my  sight,  which  is  very  poor,  leaving  me  un- 
able to  write  much,  and  having  no  one  who 
could  spare  the  time  to  write  at  my  dictation, 
I  must  be  content  to  write  what  I  can  at  pres- 
ent, and  that  is  little. 

"I  became  acquainted  with  the  Reverend 
Father  Sanchez  in  July,  1860.  He  was  then 
Master  of  Novices  at  the  Old  Mission  at  Santa 
Barbara.  He  was  very  much  sought  after  by 
pastors  throughout  the  State  to  preach  and 
give  mission  to  the  Mexican  and  Spanish  peo- 
ple, and  also  to  the  Indians.  So  he  was  well 
known  by  all  the  ranch  owners  from  Sacra- 
mento to  San  Diego,  and  nearly  all  the  Spanish 
and  Mexican  people  in  the  State  knew  him. 

"  In  1872  he  was  assigned  to  reside  in  the 
Orphanage,  give  missions  and  collect  for  the 

"  In  1882  he  received  several  injuries.  He 
never  said  much  about  the  injuries,  but  bore 
them  very  patiently. 

"Shortly  after  this  he  left  the  Orphanage 



and  returned  to  Santa  Barbara,  and  there  his 
injuries  were  aggravated  by  his  falling  over  a 
large  cut  stone.  A  few  days  after  he  felt  un- 
able to  go  about  much,  and  the  doctor  ordered 
him  to  be  quiet  and  remain  in  his  room,  where 
he  was  nursed,  receiving  the  best  care  and  at- 
tention possible. 

"  I  visited  him  often  every  day,  and  my  first 
visit  was  always  early  every  morning.  The 
last  morning  I  saw  him  very  early  before  I 
went  to  the  Church,  and  found  him  in  very 
good  humor,  and  seemingly  very  lively;  so  I 
told  him  I  would  return  again  as  soon  as  I 
was  through  in  the  Church. 

"  I  came  as  I  promised,  and  found  him  lying 
on  the  bare  floor,  and  seemingly  in  great  pain. 
I  raised  him  into  a  sitting  posture  and  held  him 
awaiting  a  chance  to  put  him  on  the  bed;  but 
while  I  held  him,  believing  he  would  be  rested 
by  my  holding  him,  he  gave  a  deep  sigh  and 
expired  in  my  arms. 

"His  death  occurred  in  1884. 

August  loth,  19x3. 
Watsonville,  California." 

In  "Ramona"  the  death  of  Father  Salvier- 
derra  is  thus  described:  "When  Father  Gas- 



para  was  taking  leave,  Ramona  said,  with 
quivering  lips :  '  Father,  if  there  is  anything 
you  know  of  Father  Salvierderra's  last  hours, 
I  would  be  grateful  to  you  for  telling  me.' 

'"I  heard  very  little,'  replied  the  Father, 
'except  that  he  had  been  feeble  for  some 
weeks;  yet  he  would  persist  in  spending  most 
of  the  night  kneeling  on  the  stone  floor  in  the 
Church,  praying.' 

" '  Yes,'  interrupted  Ramona ;  '  that  he  al- 
ways did.' 

" '  And  the  last  morning,'  continued  the  Fa- 
ther, 'the  Brothers  found  him  there,  still 
kneeling  on  the  stone  floor,  but  quite  power- 
less to  move;  and  they  lifted  him,  and  carried 
him  to  his  room,  and  there  they  found,  to  their 
horror,  that  he  had  no  bed;  he  had  lain  on  the 
stones;  and  then  they  took  him  to  the  Su- 
perior's own  room,  and  laid  him  in  the  bed, 
and  he  did  not  speak  any  more;  and  at  noon 
he  died.' " 

At  the  time  of  the  death  of  Father  Sanchez 
Mrs.  Jackson  was  in  New  York  writing  "  Ra- 
mona." The  news  of  his  death  was  communi- 
cated to  her  there,  and  in  time  for  the  portrayal 
of  the  dying  of  Father  Salvierderra  and  the 
relation  of  the  sad  occurrence  to  Ramona  by 

Father  Gaspara  of  San  Diego  while  on  a  visit 













at  San  Pasquale,  where  Alessandro  and  Ra- 
mona  had  established  a  home,  in  which  they 
made  Father  Gaspara  their  guest.  He  was  the 
same  Father  who  had  married  this  wandering 
couple  two  years  previous. 

It  was  the  custom  of  Father  Sanchez  to 
spend  much  of  each  day  kneeling  in  prayer 
on  the  stone  floor  of  the  Church. 

Mrs.  Jackson  evidently  heard  just  sufficient 
of  the  circumstances  of  the  death  of  Father 
Sanchez  to  suggest  the  conditions  which  she 
described  as  attending  the  death  of  Father  Sal- 

Father  Sanchez  was  in  every  respect  the 
noble  and  saintly  priest  as  portrayed  by  Mrs. 
Jackson  in  the  character  of  Father  Salvier- 

In  discovering  and  identifying  the  original 
of  Father  Salvierderra  of  "  Ramona,"  the  au- 
thors have  been  given  valuable  assistance  by 
Father  Theodore  Arentz,  O.F.M.,  Superior  of 
Old  Mission,  Santa  Barbara.  We  here  submit 
an  interesting  communication  from  him  upon 
the  subject: 

"  I  have  glanced  over  the  book  '  Ramona ' 
of  Mrs.  Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  and  I  must  say 
that,  from  what  she  writes  about  Father  '  Sal- 
vierderra/ from  the  mention  she  makes  of  one 



other  Father  who  was  with  him  at  Santa  Bar- 
bara, and  of  other  conditions  and  circumstances, 
it  appears  evident  to  me,  that  by  Father  Sal- 
vierderra  she  can  mean  no  one  else  but  Rev. 
Father  Francisco  Sanchez  of  the  Mission 
Santa  Barbara. 

"  Father  Francisco  Sanchez  was  at  the  time 
Mrs.  Jackson  was  in  Southern  California 
(1882-83)  nearly  70  years  of  age,  he  having 
been  born  in  Leon,  State  of  Guanajuato, 
Mexico,  in  August,  1813.  In  February,  1837, 
he  received  the  habit  of  the  Franciscan  Order 
in  the  Franciscan  Colegio  Apostolico  de  Gua- 
dalupe,  near  Zacatecas,  and  in  1838  he  was 
ordained  priest.  In  1841  he  came  with  Rt. 
Rev.  Francisco  Garcia  Diego  y  Moreno,  first 
bishop  of  both  Californias,  who  was  of  the 
same  Colegio  Apostolico  de  Guadalupe,  to 
California,  arriving  at  San  Diego  on  December 
n,  1841,  and  at  Santa  Barbara  on  January 
n,  1842. 

"  From  then  on  he  traveled  as  missionary 
more  than  once  over  nearly  all  California, 
visiting  many  places  frequently,  and  being  at 
intervals  stationed  at  different  places,  such 
as  at  San  Buenaventura,  1842-43,  1852-53;  at 
Santa  Ines,  1844-50,  as  Vice-Rector  of  the 
seminary  at  Pajaro  Valley  Orphanage,  1874- 



79,  being  most  of  the  time  on  collection  trips 
for  the  orphanage  and  giving  at  the  same  time 
missions  in  the  different  places  he  visited. 
The  rest  of  the  time  he  was  stationed  at  Santa 
Barbara,  where  he  held  the  office  of  Master 
of  Novices,  and  from  where  he  visited  as  mis- 
sionary other  places  near  and  far,  being  invited 
by  people  and  priests. 

"  He  was  a  very  pious  and  zealous  padre. 
He  died  at  the  Old  Mission,  Santa  Barbara,  in 
one  of  the  lower  rooms  facing  the  front  cor- 
ridor, on  April  17,  1884,  at  7:45  A.M.,  in  the 
arms  of  Rev.  Father  Joseph  O'Keefe,  at  the 
age  of  70  years  and  8  months. 

"  At  about  the  same  time  Mrs.  Jackson  fin- 
ished her  book  '  Ramona '  in  New  York.  Per- 
haps she  had  heard  of  the  severe  illness,  or 
even  death,  of  Father  Francisco  Sanchez  at  the 
time  she  finished  her  book. 

"  The  young  Brazilian  monk,  Father  Francis, 
to  whom,  Mrs.  Jackson  says  (Chap.  XXV), 
Father  Salvierderra  was  greatly  attached,  must 
have  been  Father  Francisco  Arbondin.  He 
came  as  a  young  man  (student)  from  South 
America,  was  received  into  the  Franciscan 
Order  at  Santa  Barbara  on  April  26,  1876, 
took  the  solemn  vows  May  6,  1880,  and  was 
ordained  priest  that  same  year  in  the  month 



of  July.  In  1885  he  went,  with  the  permission 
of  his  superiors,  to  Guatemala. 

"  The  Santa  Barbara  Mission  was,  according 
to  Mrs.  Jackson,  the  place  where  Father  Sal- 
vierderra  made  his  home,  and  here  it  was 
where  Father  Sanchez  lived,  especially  after 
1879,  though  while  stationed  at  the  Pajaro 
Valley  Orphanage  he  was  frequently  at  Santa 
Barbara,  and  from  where  he  made  his  visits 
to  different  places,  rancherias,  etc.,  to  give  the 
people  a  chance  to  assist  at  Holy  Mass,  to  hear 
the  word  of  God  preached  to  them,  to  go  to 
confession,  to  receive  holy  communion,  etc. 
Here,  at  Santa  Barbara,  the  people  also  came 
to  him. 

"In  her  book  Mrs.  Jackson  calls  the  Mis- 
sion Santa  Barbara  promiscuously  *  Franciscan 
Monastery'  (Chap.  IV),  and  'College'  (Chap. 
XXV).  The  Mission  at  that  time  was  not 
a  monastery  in  the  proper  sense;  such  it 
became  in  1885,  when  it  was  incorporated  into 
the  Franciscan  Province  of  the  Sacred  Heart 
of  Jesus,  whose  headquarters  are  at  St.  Louis, 
Mo.  Nor  was  it  any  longer  a  college  in  the 
common  sense,  or  an  institution  of  learning 
for  young  boys  and  men,  as  it  had  been  from 
1868  to  1876,  when  it  was  closed,  because  the 
Fathers  were  too  few  and  too  old  and  the  hir- 



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ing  of  professors  was  too  expensive  to  keep  it 
up;  but  it  was  a  missionary  college,  i.e.,  a 
colegio  apostolico  de  propaganda  fide,  like  the 
colegios  in  Mexico,  from  which  the  mission- 
aries had  come  to  California;  though,  for  cer- 
tain reasons,  on  a  very  small  scale.  As  such 
it  had  been  established  in  1854,  and  such  it 
remained  until  1885. 

"  The  community  from  1880  to  1884  con- 
sisted of  the  following  solemnly  professed 
Fathers  (priests)  and  Lay  Brothers:  Very  Rev. 
Jcse  Maria  Romo,  O.F.M.,  Guardian  Superior; 
Rev.  Joseph  J.  O'Keefe,  O.F.M.,  Vicar;  Rev. 
Francisco  Sanchez,  O.F.M.;  Rev.  Jose  Godiol, 
O.F.M.;  Rev.  Bonaventura  Fox,  O.F.M.;  Rev. 
Francisco  Arbondin,  O.F.M.;  Bro.  Anthony 
Gallagher,  O.F.M.;  Bro.  Joseph  Patrick  O'Mal- 
ley,  O.F.M.;  Bro.  Dominie  Reid,  O.F.M. 

"  We  have  a  good  photograph  here  which 
was  taken  in  1882  or  1883,  and  on  which  all 
the  above  mentioned  Fathers  and  Brothers,  ex- 
cept Father  Jose  Godiol,  are  represented. 

"  As  to  the  name  '  Salvierderra '  used  by 
Mrs.  Jackson,  I  think,  and  I  have  also  heard 
the  same  opinion  expressed  by  others,  that  she 
took  and  changed  it  from  '  Zalvidea,'  the  name 
of  a  Franciscan  missionary  who  came  to  Cali- 
fornia in  August,  1805,  and  was  successively 



stationed  at  San  Fernando  1805-6,  at  San 
Gabriel  1806-26,  at  San  Juan  Capistrano  1826- 
42,  and  at  San  Luis  Rey  1842-46,  when  and 
where  he  died  at  an  age  of  about  66  years, 
and  who  was  a  model  missionary,  and  consid- 
ered and  much  talked  of  by  the  common  people 
as  a  saint;  as  also  Bancroft  remarks.  Probably 
Mrs.  Jackson  heard  his  name  mentioned  when 
in  California.  Or  she  may  have  changed  the 
name  from  '  Salvatierra,'  the  great  Jesuit  mis- 
sionary, or  apostle  of  Lower  California,  from 


"  Santa  Barbara,  California, 
September  4,  1913." 

In  "  Glimpses  of  California  and  the  Mis- 
sions" Mrs.  Jackson  thus  pictured  Father 
Sanchez  and  the  Santa  Barbara  Mission: 

"The  Santa  Barbara  Mission  is  still  in  the 
charge  of  Franciscans,  the  only  one  remaining 
in  their  possession.  It  is  now  called  a  college 
for  apostolic  missionary  work,  and  there  are 
living  within  its  walls  eight  members  of  the 
order.  One  of  them  is  very  old,  —  a  friar  of 

the    ancient    regime;   his    benevolent    face    is 



well  known  throughout  the  country,  and  there 
are  in  many  a  town  and  remote  hamlet  men 
and  women  who  wait  always  for  his  coming 
before  they  will  make  confession.  He  is  like 
Saint  Francis's  first  followers:  the  obligations 
of  poverty  and  charity  still  hold  to  him  the 
literal  fullness  of  the  original  bond.  He  gives 
away  garment  after  garment,  leaving  himself 
without  protection  against  cold;  and  the 
brothers  are  forced  to  lock  up  and  hide  from 
him  all  provisions,  or  he  would  leave  the  house 
bare  of  food.  He  often  kneels  from  midnight 
to  dawn  on  the  stone  floor  of  the  church,  pray- 
ing and  chanting  psalms;  and  when  a  terrible 
epidemic  of  smallpox  broke  out  some  years  ago, 
he  labored  day  and  night,  nursing  the  worst 
victims  of  it,  shrouding  them  and  burying  them 
with  his  own  hands. ,  He  is  past  eighty  and 
has  not  much  longer  to  stay.  He  has  outlived 
many  things  beside  his  own  prime;  the  day  of 
the  sort  of  faith  and  work  to  which  his  spirit 
is  attuned  has  passed  by  forever. 

"The  Mission  buildings  stand  on  high 
ground,  three  miles  from  the  beach,  west  of 
the  town  and  above  it,  looking  to  the  sea.  In 
the  morning  the  sun's  first  rays  flash  full  on 
its  front,  and  at  evening  they  linger  late  on 
its  western  wall.  It  is  an  inalienable  benedic- 



tion  to  the  place.  The  longer  one  stays  there 
the  more  he  is  aware  of  the  influence  on  his 
soul,  as  well  as  of  the  importance  in  the  land- 
scape of  the  benign  and  stately  edifice. 

"  On  the  corridor  of  the  inner  court  hangs 
a  bell  which  is  rung  for  the  hours  of  the  daily 
offices  and  secular  duties.  It  is  also  struck 
whenever  a  friar  dies,  to  announce  that  all  is 
over.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  brother  who  has 
watched  the  last  breath  of  the  dying  one  to  go 
immediately  and  strike  this  bell.  Its  sad  note 
has  echoed  many  times  through  the  corridors. 
One  of  the  brothers  said  last  year:  'The  first 
time  I  rang  that  bell  to  announce  a  death,  there 
were  fifteen  of  us  left.  Now  there  are  only 

"  The  sentence  itself  fell  on  my  ear  like  the 
note  of  a  passing-bell.  It  seems  a  not  unfit- 
ting last  word  to  this  slight  and  fragmentary 
sketch  of  the  labors  of  the  Franciscan  Order 
in  California." 

The  authors  have  sought  to  discover  the 
origin  of  the  name  "  Salvierderra."  Some  have 
accepted  Padre  Jose  Maria  de  Zalvidea,  for 
years  one  of  the  Fathers  at  San  Gabriel  Mis- 
sion, as  the  original  of  Father  Salvierderra, 
but  merely  because  of  some  similarity  of  names. 
But  not  so.  There  is  nothing  in  "  Ramona " 



that  in  any  way  identifies  the  San  Gabriel  Fa- 
ther with  Father  Salvierderra  of  the  story. 

Mrs.  Jackson  did  nothing  in  a  light  or  in- 
significant way.  She  wanted  a  fictitious  name 
for  dear  old  Father  Sanchez.  She  frequently 
had  Sefior  and  Sefiora  de  Coronel  define  and 
translate  Spanish  words  and  expressions  for  her. 
A  superficial  answer  was  not  sufficient;  she 
wanted  the  derivation  of  words,  and  often  the 
conversation  upon  such  a  topic  would  lead  to 
a  lesson  in  etymology. 

Mrs.  Jackson  was  an  intense  admirer  of 
Father  Sanchez.  He  and  Father  Junipero 
Serra  were  to  her  almost  Christ-like.  She  ex- 
tolled their  virtues,  recounted  with  tearful 
sympathy  their  struggles  and  sufferings  and 
proclaimed  their  lives  to  have  been  divinely 
perfect.  She  knew  that  the  prototype  of  the 
priestly  character  of  her  proposed  novel  was 
teaching  and  giving  salvation  to  his  fellow- 
beings.  She  sought  a  name  bearing  signifi- 
cance. She  had  only  to  take  the  Spanish  verbs 
salvar,to  save,  and  dar,to  give,  and  create  the 
name  she  desired.  Dropping  the  "r"  from 
salvar,  and  combining  the  root  with  the  sub- 
junctive imperfect  of  the  irregular  verb  dar, 
which  is  diera,  produces  Salvadiera,  signifying 
giving  salvation. 



It  is  true  Mrs.  Jackson  did  not  follow  the 
correct  Spanish  spelling  of  the  name.  This 
may  have  been  intentional  or  an  error.  The 
same  comment  may  be  made  concerning  the 
name  "  Alessandro."  As  to  it  Mrs.  Jackson 
rejected  the  Spanish  spelling,  "  Alejandro,"  and 
adopted  the  Italian. 

However  this  may  be,  we  find  in  Father 
Francisco  de  Jesus  Sanchez,  O.F.M.,  Master  of 
Novices  at  Old  Mission,  Santa  Barbara,  the 
worthy  original  of  Father  Salvierderra  of  "  Ra- 


Angus  Phail — Ramona's  Father 

As  further  evidence  of  the  assertion  that 
many  of  the  characters  of  the  Ramona  romance 
had  their  originals,  is  the  assured  fact  that 
Angus  Phail,  Ramona's  father,  was  in  reality 
Hugo  Reid,  a  well-known  Scotchman  of  many 
eccentricities,  who  lived  for  years  at  San 

Angus  Phail  loved  Ramona  Gonzaga,  sister 
of  Senora  Moreno.  His  love  was  unrequited, 
and  this  drove  him  to  desperation.  "  He  was 
the  owner  of  the  richest  line  of  ships  which 
traded  along  the  coast  at  that  time.  The  rich- 
est stuffs,  carvings,  woods,  pearls  and  jewels, 




V8g*i.||  c 

CA  w'"1  i  rt  3 


2lS'S?«  ^ 

*      fl  9  J I  W 

r»SJ  w  cro'3  2 

2  3  iso  3  o  vj 

"     2.   r«    !»    -       rt 

ON      O 
'  *Z 


^p  »-8  s*^ 


<  a 

^x  ^^ 

<  s 

s  * 

CQ  -5 


cd  2  ° 

W     c.*' 
H    3.c 

O   "Q  c 

V-  '  TJ 

W   ^'5 

L^      «S*  ^ 



which  came  into  the  country,  came  in  his  ships. 
.  .  .  The  Sefiorita  Ramona  Gonzaga  sailed 
for  Monterey  the  same  day  and  hour  her  lover 
sailed  for  San  Bias.  .  .  .  This  was  to  be  his 
last  voyage.  ...  He  comforted  himself  by 
thinking  that  he  would  bring  back  for  his 
bride  .  .  .  treasures  of  all  sorts." 

Angus  returned  from  this  last  voyage  to  find 
his  sefiorita  married  to  an  Ortegna.  This  mad- 
dened him.  "He  sold  all  he  possessed;  ship 
after  ship  sold  for  a  song,  and  the  proceeds 
squandered  in  drinking  or  worse.  .  .  .  Finally 
Angus  disappeared,  and  after  a  time  the  news 
came  up  from  Los  Angeles  that  he  was  there, 
had  gone  out  to  San  Gabriel  Mission,  and  was 
living  with  the  Indians.  Some  years  later  came 
the  still  more  surprising  news  that  he  had 
married  a  squaw." 

Ramona,  as  related  in  the  story,  was  the 
child  of  this  marriage.  When  a  babe,  Angus 
Phail,  her  father,  gave  her  to  the  object  of  his 
early  devotion,  Ramona  Gonzaga  Ortegna,  who 
was  childless. 

Soon  afterward  Angus  died,  and  to  the 
foster-mother  of  Ramona,  Sefiora  Ortegna, 
came  an  Indian  messenger  from  San  Gabriel, 
bearing  a  box  and  a  letter,  given  him  by  Angus 
the  day  before  his  death.  "  The  box  contained 



jewels  of  value,  of  fashions  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury old.  They  were  the  jewels  which  Angus 
had  bought  for  his  bride."  The  note  read: 
"I  send  you  all  I  have  to  leave  my  daughter. 
I  meant  to  bring  them  myself  this  year.  I 
wished  to  kiss  your  hands  and  hers  once  more. 
But  I  am  dying.  Farewell." 

Thus  Mrs.  Jackson  laid  the  origin  of  the 
Ramona  jewels. 

"  After  these  jewels  were  in  her  possession, 
Senora  Ortegna  rested  not  until  she  had  per- 
suaded Senora  Moreno  to  journey  to  Monterey, 
and  put  the  box  into  her  keeping  as  a  sacred 
trust.  She  also  won  from  her  a  solemn  prom- 
ise that  at  her  own  death  she  would  adopt 
the  little  Ramona.  .  .  .  One  hour  after  the 
funeral  .  .  .  Senora  Moreno,  leading  the  little 
four-year-old  Ramona  by  the  hand,  left  the 
house,  and  early  the  next  morning  set  sail  for 

Hugo  Reid,  whom  we  assert  to  be  the  origi- 
nal of  Angus  Phail,  passed  a  part  of  his  early 
life  in  Mexico,  and  there  had  an  affair  of  the 
heart  that  shaped  his  future.  In  1834,  when 
twenty-three  years  old,  he  went  to  Los  An- 
geles and  became  a  merchant.  He  married  an 
Indian  woman  at  San  Gabriel,  Dona  Victoria, 
said  to  have  possessed  both  good  looks  and 


wealth.  Of  this  marriage  three  children  were 
born,  one  of  them,  a  daughter,  famed  for  in- 
telligence and  beauty.  Her  name  was  Ignacia, 
but  she  was  commonly  called  "  Nacha,"  or 
"Nachita."  The  Coronels  told  Mrs.  Jackson 
the  story  of  Hugo  Reid,  his  marriage  to 
the  Indian  woman,  and  of  Ignacia,  and  she 
became  so  much  interested  in  the  facts 
that  she  planned  to  write  another  story, 
similar  to  that  of  "  Ramona,"  and  entitle  it 
"  Nacha." 

Hugo  Reid  at  one  time  was  a  ship-captain. 
He  was  the  owner  of  the  Esmeralda,  burned 
at  San  Pedro  in  1842.  He  brought  home  from 
ocean  voyages  many  costly  and  beautiful 
things — diamonds,  strings  of  pearls,  silks  and 
shawls.  He  had  been  jilted  in  Mexico,  and 
left  there  with  the  avowal  to  marry  someone 
bearing  the  name  of  the  woman  to  whom  he 
was  a  victim,  Victoria;  "even  though  she  be 
an  Indian,"  he  said. 

He  possessed  fine  literary  tastes,  and  made 
the  Indians  a  special  study,  upon  which  sub- 
ject he  wrote  extensively,  his  writings  gaining 
circulation  in  the  East  and  attracting  general 
attention.  There  is  now  in  the  possession  of 
Miss  Annie  B.  Picher,  Pasadena,  an  extensive 
manuscript  of  Hugo  Reid  upon  the  Mission  In- 



dians,  of  great  interest,  which  has  never  been 

A  letter  from  Mrs.  Jackson  to  Sefior  and 
Sefiora  de  Coronel,  written  at  Boston,  contains 
this  reference  to  the  original  of  Angus  Phail: 
"  The  Hugo  Reid  letters  I  saw  at  the  Bancroft 
Library,  though  I  did  not  find  much  in  them 
which  I  could  use  in  my  very  limited  space." 

Thus  is  evidenced  how  Mrs.  Jackson  founded 
her  story  of  "  Ramona  "  on  living  persons  and 
real  facts.  The  Ramona  jewels  and  silks  did 
exist,  but  they  were  not  the  gems  and  rich 
fabrics  of  Hugo  Reid.  As  heretofore  related 
in  these  pages,  they  were  the  identical  treas- 
ures of  great  beauty  and  value  collected  by 
Captain  U.  Yndart,  a  sea-faring  man,  of  Santa 
Barbara,  grandfather  of  Blanca  Yndart,  who, 
with  the  jewels,  at  the  death  of  her  mother, 
was  given  into  the  keeping  of  Dona  Ysabel 
del  Valle,  mistress  of  Camulos  ranch.  This 
beautiful  and  intelligent  girl  was  to  Mrs.  Jack- 
son the  inspiration  of  her  "  Ramona." 

The  Ranch  Servants 

At  the  time  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  visit  to  Camu- 
los ranch  there  were  such  a  number  of  house 

and  ranch  servants,  of  varied  ages,  types  and 









characteristics,  that  numerous  characters  could 
have  been  readily  selected  by  the  author.  Na- 
turally she  gave  to  them  fictitious  names. 

There  was  a  head  shepherd,  Juan  Canito,  an 
upper  herdsman  of  the  cattle,  Juan  Jose,  and 
Luigo,  "  the  lazy  shepherd."  And  there  were 
the  house  servants:  Margarita,  the  "youngest 
and  prettiest  of  the  maids,"  her  mother,  Marda, 
the  old  cook,  Anita  and  Maria,  twins,  Rosa,  and 
Anita  "the  little,"  and  Juanita,  oldest  of  the 
house  servants,  "  silly,  good  for  nothing  except 
to  shell  beans." 

There  were  a  number  of  shepherd  dogs  on 
the  ranch,  any  one  of  which  could  have  been 
identified  as  Capitan,  Juan  Canito's  favorite 
collie,  the  same  that  followed  Alessandro  and 
Ramona  in  their  wanderings. 

Mrs.  Hartsel 

On  departing  from  Camulos  ranch  Ales- 
sandro and  Ramona  directed  their  journey  to 
Temecula,  Alessandro's  old  home.  The  In- 
dians had  but  recently  been  ejected  from  that 
village,  and  Alessandro's  father,  Chief  Pablo 
Assis,  was  dead.  There  remained  only  ruin 
and  devastation  to  mark  the  site  of  the  Indian 
settlement,  save  Alessandro's  home,  and  sev- 



eral  others,  too  good  for  the  white  invaders 
to  destroy,  and  Hartsel's  store.  The  rare  vio- 
lin of  Alessandro's  father  had  been  placed  with 
Mrs.  Hartsel  for  safe  keeping.  Alessandro 
planned  to  see  her  and  secure  money  from  its 
sale.  He  had  his  own  violin  with  him,  through 
the  thoughtfulness  of  Ramona,  who  took  it 
from  Felipe's  room  the  night  of  her  escape 
from  Sefiora  Moreno's.  "What  would  life  be 
to  Alessandro  without  a  violin?"  she  said. 

Mrs.  Hartsel  was  the  wife  of  Jim  Hartsel, 
the  storekeeper  at  Temecula.  "  Hartsel's  was 
one  of  those  mongrel  establishments  to  be  seen 
nowhere  except  in  Southern  California.  Half 
shop,  half  farm,  half  tavern,  it  gathered  up  to 
itself  all  the  threads  of  the  life  of  the  whole 
region.  Indians,  ranchmen,  travelers  of  all 
sorts,  traded  at  Hartsel's,  drank  at  Hartsel's, 
slept  at  Hartsel's."  The  description  of  Han- 
sel's store  and  dwelling  as  given  in  "  Ramona  " 
is  true  to  life. 

Alessandro  succeeded  in  reaching  Mrs.  Hart- 
sel's kitchen  early  in  the  night  unobserved, 
while  Ramona  awaited  him  with  the  horses  at 
the  cemetery.  This  good  woman,  a  friend  of 
the  Indians,  who  knew  and  admired  Alessan- 
dro, readily  responded  to  the  offer  to  sell  his 
father's  violin.  But  Jim,  her  husband,  was 



Is  ffi 

i!=  * 
I"'-  r 

^J  CO*      Q 


II    H 

o    2 







drunk,  and  no  barter  could  be  made  with  him; 
and  so  Mrs.  Hartsel  took  from  her  purse  four 
five-dollar  gold  pieces  and  gave  them  to  Ales- 
sandro  as  a  loan,  saying,  "  I'll  give  you 
what  money  you  need  to-night,  and  then,  if 
you  say  so,  Jim'll  sell  the  violin  to-morrow, 
if  that  man  wants  it,  and  you  can  pay  me 

"At  Temecula,  from  Mrs.  Hartsel,  Felipe 
got  the  first  true  intelligence  of  Alessandro's 
movements,"  when  he  was  endeavoring,  after 
Senora  Moreno's  death,  to  locate  him.  Mrs. 
Hartsel  had  known  nothing  of  Ramona,  or  that 
anyone  was  accompanying  Alessandro  when  he 
visited  her  on  the  violin  errand. 

This  kindly  woman  is  one  of  the  striking 
characters  of  "  Ramona,"  and  it  is  interesting 
to  know  who  she  really  was.  The  question 
may  be  correctly  answered:  she  was  Ramona 
Wolfe,  whose  husband  kept  the  "mongrel  es- 
tablishment," store,  inn  and  saloon  at  Temecula. 
He  was  a  Frenchman.  His  wife  is  said  to 
have  been  a  half-breed;  her  father  French. 
Because  she  bore  the  name  of  Ramona  she, 
too,  has  been  accepted  by  many  as  the  original 
of  that  character  in  the  romance.  Mrs.  Jack- 
son met  Mrs.  Wolfe  at  Temecula  and  was 
deeply  impressed  by  her  romantic  life  and  her 



sterling  worth,  and  especially  because  of  her 
friendship  for  the  Indians. 

Father  Antonio  Peyri 

Father  Antonio  Peyri  was  a  living  person. 
He  was  the  devoted  Franciscan  who  built  the 
chapel  and  campanile  at  San  Luis  Rey  Mis- 
sion. He  and  Pablo  Assis,  Alessandro's  father, 
were  close  friends.  Alessandro  is  made  to  say: 
"  Father  Peyri  was  like  a  father  to  all  his  In- 
dians. My  father  says  that  they  would  all  of 
them  lie  down  in  a  fire  for  him,  if  he  had  com- 
manded it." 

Father  Peyri  introduced  the  beautiful  pepper 
tree  into  California,  and  with  his  own  hands 
planted  the  first  of  these  trees  in  the  State  at 
San  Luis  Rey  Mission. 

In  her  story  of  "  Father  Junipero  and  His 
Work,"  to  be  found  in  "  Glimpses  of  California 
and  the  Missions,"  Mrs.  Jackson  thus  wrote  of 
Father  Peyri: 

"  Under  the  new  regime  the  friars  suffered 
hardly  less  than  the  Indians.  Some  fled  the 
country,  unable  to  bear  the  humiliations  and 
hardships  of  their  positions  under  the  control 
of  the  administrators  or  majors-domo,  and  de- 
pendent on  their  caprice  for  shelter  and  even 







Father  Gaspara  of  "  Ramona."  San  Diego  Mission,  who  married 
Alessandro  and  Ramona:  Photographed  while  reading  service 
over  victims  of  the  Bennington  disaster,  San  Diego,  June,  1906. 
"  When  fresh  outrages  (against  the  Indians)  were  brought  to 
his  notice,  he  paced  his  room,  plucked  fiercely  at  his  black  beard, 
with  ejaculations,  it  is  to  be  feared,  savoring  more  of  the  camp 
than  the  altar."  "  Ramona." 


for  food.  Among  this  number  was  Father  An- 
tonio Peyri,  who  had  been  for  over  thirty  years 
in  charge  of  the  splendid  Mission  of  San  Luis 
Rey.  In  1800,  two  years  after  its  founding, 
this  Mission  had  369  Indians.  In  1827  it  had 
2,685;  it  owned  over  twenty  thousand  head  of 
cattle,  and  nearly  twenty  thousand  sheep.  It 
controlled  over  two  hundred  thousand  acres 
of  land,  and  there  were  raised  in  its  fields  in 
one  year  three  thousand  bushels  of  wheat,  six 
thousand  of  barley  and  ten  thousand  of  corn. 
No  other  Mission  had  so  fine  a  church.  It  was 
one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  long,  fifty  wide  and 
sixty  high,  with  walls  four  feet  thick.  A 
tower  at  one  side  held  a  belfry  for  eight  bells. 
The  corridor  on  the  opposite  side  had  two 
hundred  and  fifty-six  arches.  Its  gold  and 
silver  ornaments  are  said  to  have  been  superb. 
"When  Father  Peyri  made  up  his  mind  to 
leave  the  country,  he  slipped  off  by  night  to 
San  Diego,  hoping  to  escape  without  the  In- 
dians' knowledge.  But,  missing  him  in  the 
morning,  and  knowing  only  too  well  what  it 
meant,  five  hundred  of  them  mounted  their 
ponies  in  hot  haste,  and  galloped  all  the  way 
to  San  Diego,  forty-five  miles,  to  bring  him 
back  by  force.  They  arrived  just  as  the  ship, 
with  Father  Peyri  on  board,  was  weighing 



anchor.  Standing  on  the  deck,  with  out- 
stretched arms,  he  blessed  them,  amid  their 
tears  and  loud  cries.  Some  flung  themselves 
into  the  water  and  swam  after  the  ship.  Four 
reached  it,  and  clinging  to  its  side,  so  implored 
to  be  taken  that  the  father  consented,  and  car- 
ried them  with  him  to  Rome,  where  one  of 
them  became  a  priest." 

Father  Gaspara 

Father  Gaspara  is  named  in  the  romance 
as  the  priest  at  San  Diego  Mission  who  mar- 
ried Alessandro  and  Ramona.  The  original  of 
this  character  was  Father  Anthony  Ubach,  in 
charge  of  the  San  Diego  Mission  at  the  time 
of  Mrs.  Jackson's  visit  there.  He  was  a  sin- 
cere friend  to  the  Mission  Indians,  and  en- 
deared himself  to  Mrs.  Jackson  accordingly. 

This  good  Father  was  born  in  Barcelona. 
He  came  to  California  in  1860,  and  was  sta- 
tioned first  at  San  Luis  Obispo.  In  1868  he 
moved  to  San  Diego,  and  located  in  what  is 
now  known  as  "  Old  Town."  He  undertook 
the  erection  of  a  church  there,  but  failed,  his 
effort  being  thus  related  by  Mrs.  Jackson  in 
"  Ramona " :  "A  few  paces  off  from  his  door 
stood  the  just  begun  walls  of  a  fine  brick 



church,  which  it  had  been  the  dream  and  pride 
of  his  heart  to  see  builded  and  full  of  worship- 
ers. This,  too,  had  failed.  ...  To  build  a 
church  on  the  ground  where  Father  Junipero 
first  trod  and  labored  would  be  a  work  to  which 
no  Catholic  could  be  indifferent.  .  .  .  The 
sight  of  these  silent  walls,  only  a  few  feet 
high,  was  a  sore  one  to  Father  Gaspara — a 
daily  cross,  which  he  did  not  find  grow  lighter 
as  he  paced  up  and  down  his  veranda,  year  in 
and  year  out,  in  the  balmy  winter  and  cool 
summer  of  that  magic  climate." 

These  same  brick  walls,  about  five  feet 
high,  stand  to-day  just  as  Mrs.  Jackson  saw 
and  described  them. 

In  a  letter  to  the  Coronels,  written  Novem- 
ber 8,  1883,  which  gave  an  outline  of  her  pro- 
posed novel,  "  Ramona,"  Mrs.  Jackson  said :  "  I 
have  written  to  Father  Ubach  and  to  Mr. 
Morse  of  San  Diego  for  their  reminiscences." 

In  "  Glimpses  of  California  and  the  Mis- 
sions "  is  this  incident  described  by  Mrs.  Jack- 
son, the  priest  mentioned  being  Father  Ubach: 
"  In  the  winter  of  1882  I  visited  the  San  Pas- 
quale  valley.  I  drove  over  from  San  Diego 
with  the  Catholic  priest,  who  goes  there  three 
or  four  Sundays  in  a  year  to  hold  service  in  a 
little  adobe  chapel  built  by  the  Indians  in  the 



days  of  their  prosperity.  .  .  .  The  Catholic 
priest  of  San  Diego  is  much  beloved  by  them. 
He  has  been  their  friend  for  many  years. 
When  he  goes  to  hold  service,  they  gather 
from  their  various  hiding-places  and  refuges; 
sometimes,  on  a  special  fete  day,  over  two 
hundred  come.  But  on  the  day  I  was  there, 
the  priest  being  a  young  man  who  was  a 
stranger  to  them,  only  a  few  were  present. 
...  In  front  of  the  chapel,  on  a  rough  cross- 
beam supported  by  two  forked  posts,  set  awry 
in  the  ground,  swung  a  bell  bearing  the  date 
of  1770.  It  was  one  of  the  bells  of  the  old 
San  Diego  Mission.  Standing  bareheaded,  the 
priest  rang  it  long  and  loud:  he  rang  it  sev- 
eral times  before  the  leisurely  groups  that  were 
plainly  to  be  seen  in  doorways  or  on  roadsides 
bestirred  themselves  to  make  any  haste  to 


Father  Ubach  wore  a  full  beard,  having  re- 
ceived papal  permission  for,  the  privilege,  be- 
cause of  throat  trouble. 

Aunt  Ri 

The  dear,  sweet  soul,  with  the  Tennessee 
vernacular,  Aunt  Ri,  who,  with  Jeff  Hyer,  her 
husband,  rescued  Alessandro,  Ramona  and 



"  Shaw,  Jos !     You  tell  her  I  ain't  any  lady.    Tell  her  every- 
body around  here  where  I  live  calls  me  '  Aunt  Ri.'  "    "  Ramona." 


Who  killed  Juan  Diego,  and  whose  tragic  death  Mrs.  Jackson 
gave  to  the  end  of  her  hero,  Alessandro.  "  Then  with  a  volley 
of  oaths.  *  *  *  leaping  into  his  saddle  *  *  *.  as  he  rode  away, 
he  shook  his  fist  at  Ramona,  who  was  kneeling  *  *  *  striving 
to  lift  Alessandro's  head,  and  to  staunch  the  blood  flowing  from 
the  ghastly  wounds."  "  Ramona." 


their  child  from  the  snow  storm,  was  Mrs. 
Jordan.  She  was  thoroughly  familiar  with  the 
killing  of  Juan  Diego  by  Sam  Temple,  which 
furnished  Mrs.  Jackson  the  information  used  in 
telling  of  the  tragic  death  of  Alessandro  by 
Jim  Farrar. 

She  knew  Juan  Diego,  his  wife,  now  known 
as  Ramona  Lubo,  and  Sam  Temple.  It  was 
she  who  persuaded  Juan  Diego  to  remain  at 
her  place  over  night,  because  of  the  long  jour- 
ney to  his  home  in  the  mountain.  In  the 
morning  Sam  Temple  told  her  someone  had 
stolen  his  horse,  and  when  she  saw  Juan's 
little  pony  in  the  corral  she  said  she'd  "  bet 
anything  that  Juan  took  it  when  he  had  a 
spell  on." 

Juan  Diego  and  his  wife  had  a  sick  child. 
The  latter  was  taken  to  Mrs.  Jordan's  home, 
and  she  gave  medicine  to  it.  When  it  died 
Mrs.  Jordan  tore  boards  from  her  barn  to  make 
a  coffin  for  the  dead  infant. 

These  facts  were  related  to  Mrs.  Jackson 
by  Mrs.  Jordan,  as  well  as  by  Miss  Sheriff,  the 
Indian  school  teacher,  now  Mrs.  Fowler,  and 
are  made  a  striking  part  of  the  "  Ramona " 



Jim  Farrar 

In  a  former  chapter  has  been  related  the 
facts  attending  the  brutal  murder  of  a  "  locoed  " 
Indian,  named  Juan  Diego,  by  Sam  Temple, 
whose  horse  the  Indian  had  taken  from  a  cor- 
ral at  San  Jacinto.  This  tragedy  was  first 
given  to  the  public  by  Mrs.  Jackson  in  her 
"  Century  of  Dishonor,"  and  constituted  a  part 
of  her  report  upon  the  Mission  Indians  to  the 
Interior  Department. 

The  death  of  Alessandro,  as  portrayed  in 
"  Ramona,"  was  under  the  identical  circum- 
stances attending  the  murder  of  Juan  Diego. 
It  was  this  tragedy  that  gave  to  Mrs.  Jack- 
son the  facts  which  she  used  in  describing  the 
death  of  her  hero,  Alessandro. 

Sam  Temple,  the  murderer,  was  the  Jim 
Farrar  of  "  Ramona."  He  never  denied  killing 
the  Indian  but  asserted  that  he  did  it  in  self- 
defense.  The  story  as  substantially  told  by 
him  was,  that  when  he  missed  one  of  his  finest 
horses,  a  beautiful  black,  from  the  corral  at 
Hewett's,  in  San  Jacinto,  he  concluded  that 
it  had  been  taken  by  an  Indian;  that  he  bor- 
rowed a  shotgun,  loaded  both  barrels  with 
buckshot,  and  in  addition  took  with  him  a  six- 
shooter;  that  he  followed  the  tracks  of  the 



missing  horse  up  the  mountains,  riding  nearly 
all  day,  when  he  arrived  at  the  home  of  Juan 
Diego,  and  there  found  his  horse  tied  to  a 
tree;  that  he  alighted  from  his  horse,  when 
Juan's  wife  appeared  and  asked  what  he 
wanted;  that  he  told  her  he  had  come  for  his 
horse,  when  Juan  appeared  at  the  door;  that  he 
inquired  of  the  Indian  where  he  had  gotten 
the  horse,  and  the  answer  was,  "  at  Sefior 
Hewett's  corral";  that  he  asked  the  Indian  if 
he  did  not  know  that  the  horse  was  not  his, 
to  which  the  Indian  replied,  "  yes  " ;  that  dur- 
ing the  conversation  he  and  the  Indian  were 
approaching  each  other,  when  suddenly  the  In- 
dian drew  a  long-bladed  knife;  that  he  told 
the  Indian  to  stop,  when  the  latter  made  a 
lunge  at  him,  and  thereupon  he  pulled  both 
triggers  of  his  gun  as  it  rested  on  his  arm; 
that  he  afterwards  found  that  he  had  put  sixty- 
seven  buckshot  clear  through  the  Indian,  but 
it  did  not  stop  him  at  the  moment,  as  the  In- 
dian still  struck  at  him;  that  he  used  his  gun  as 
a  club,  breaking  the  stock  on  the  Indian's  head, 
who  fell  to  the  ground,  but  that  such  was  the 
Indian's  determination  that  even  then  he  struck 
at  Temple  several  times  with  the  knife;  that 
then,  he,  Temple,  shot  at  the  Indian  three  times 
with  his  revolver. 



Temple  was  released  on  his  preliminary  hear- 
ing before  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and  there  his 
prosecution  for  the  brutal  crime  ended. 

Temple  never  evinced  the  least  regret  be- 
cause of  his  dastardly  act,  but  boasted  that  he 
had  rid  the  country  of  a  dangerous  horse  thief. 
He  was  so  elated  over  his  crime  and  its  pub- 
lication in  "  Ramona "  that  he  endeavored  to 
secure  financial  assistance,  that  he  might  place 
himself  on  public  exhibition,  as  "  the  man  who 
killed  Alessandro." 

Temple  was  also  a  wife-beater.  His  wife 
had  complained  to  the  city  marshal  of  San 
Jacinto  as  to  her  husband's  brutal  treatment  of 
her,  and  the  marshal  warned  him  not  to  re- 
peat the  offense;  but  Sam  again  abused  his 
wife  shamefully,  her  cries  arousing  the  neigh- 
bors, who  sent  for  the  marshal.  The  marshal 
sent  a  deputy,  a  Kentuckian,  who  for  many 
years  had  been  a  Pinkerton  detective,  with  in- 
structions to  arrest  Temple.  It  was  at  night 
when  the  constable  approached  Temple's  house, 
and  Sam  called  out  to  know  who  was  there. 
He  had  already  sent  word  to  the  marshal  that 
he  would  not  be  taken  alive  and  would  shoot 
anyone  who  attempted  to  arrest  him.  McKim, 
the  constable,  said,  "  It  is  me,  Sam.  I  have  got 
to  arrest  you  and  I  am  going  to  take  you  dead 



or  alive."  Instantly  there  was  a  shot  from 
Temple's  revolver,  which  was  without  effect. 
Quick  as  a  flash  the  constable  returned  the 
shot,  striking  Sam's  arm  and  badly  injuring  it. 
Immediately  Sam  yelled  out  that  he  had  had 
enough.  The  constable  ordered  him  to  throw 
out  his  gun  and  to  stand  clear  in  the  light,  and 
throw  up  his  hands.  The  order  was  obeyed. 
McKim  took  Sam  to  the  jail,  had  his  arm  ban- 
daged and  locked  him  up. 

Temple  last  lived  at  Yuma,  Arizona,  where 
he  died  in  1909. 

Judge  Wells 

Judge  Tripp,  the  justice  of  the  peace  at  San 
Jacinto,  before  whom  Sam  Temple  had  his  pre- 
liminary hearing  under  the  charge  of  killing 
Juan  Diego,  is  the  Judge  Wells  of  "  Ramona." 
Mrs.  Jackson  thus  wrote  of  him:  "Judge  Wells 
was  a  frontiersman,  and  by  no  means  sentimen- 
tally inclined;  but  the  tears  stood  in  his  eyes 
as  he  looked  at  the  unconscious  Ramona." 

Judge  Wells  is  another  of  the  characters  of 
"  Ramona  "  drawn  from  life. 




IN  1 900  Dona  Mariana  de  Coronel,  the  inti- 
mate friend  of  Mrs.  Jackson,  bade  farewell 
to  Los  Angeles,  intending  to  spend  her  de- 
clining years  in  Old  Mexico,  which,  in  the  days 
of  peace  and  prosperity  and  contentment,  she 
often  had  visited  with  Don  Antonio,  her  hus- 

As  a  maiden  she  had  spent  many  happy  years 
in  the  old  pueblo  that  clustered  about  the  Los 
Angeles  Plaza,  knowing  everybody,  known  to 
all,  beloved  by  everybody.  Years  of  unalloyed 
bliss  followed  as  the  mistress  of  "  El  Recreo," 
the  ideal  Spanish  abode  that  Don  Antonio  had 
builded  amidst  the  orange  trees  in  the  broad 
grant  made  by  the  Mexican  Government  to  his 
father  and  descended  to  him,  not  far  from  the 
sloping  banks  of  the  Los  Angeles  River,  and 
what  now  would  be  near  the  corner  of  Seventh 
Street  and  Central  Avenue;  although  it  is 


HKo  3.  * 


"  *^3 


lil-  c 


~^~5'  W 

ill*  H 

^"^3  2 

°  I!TW  3 



q    ffi 
'22    W 






-"       a, 



Part  of  the  Coroncl  Collection,  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce, Los  Angeles. 


doubtful  if  even  Dona  Mariana  herself  could 
indicate  the  precise  location  of  the  historical 
hacienda,  so  confusing  are  the  lines  of  what 
has  by  common  consent  come  to  be  called 
"  civilization." 

Mixed  must  have  been  the  memories  that 
crowded  in  upon  Dona  Mariana  as  she  with- 
drew from  the  scenes  of  her  childhood  and  set 
her  face  to  the  southward.  It  had  been  her 
purpose  to  locate  at  or  near  Guadalajara,  and 
there  duplicate  the  hacienda  that,  as  her  hos- 
pitable home  for  so  many  years,  had  come  to  be 
so  prominent  a  landmark  in  Los  Angeles,  a 
home  that  had  sheltered  every  prominent  per- 
son of  every  nationality  who  had  visited  the 
pueblo  during  Spanish,  Mexican  and  American 

Were  this  a  history,  which  it  is  not  intended 
to  be,  many  chapters  would  need  to  be  devoted 
to  accounts  of  what  Dona  Mariana  and  her 
distinguished  husband  had  done  for  Los  An- 
geles. It  must  suffice  to  make  reference  to  one 
of  the  latest  generous  acts  of  Dona  Mariana, 
the  gift  to  the  Los  Angeles  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce of  the  wonderful  Coronel  Collection,  com- 
prehending relics  and  curios  she  and  her  hus- 
band had  been  fifty  years  in  assembling,  and 
which  constitute  the  chief  attraction  of  the 



Chamber  of  Commerce.  Days  and  weeks  could 
be  profitably  spent  in  examining  this  collec- 
tion, the  ensemble  in  itself  constituting  a  very 
comprehensive  history  of  the  State  of  Cali- 
fornia, from  the  days  of  Junipero  Serra  down 
to  the  present  era,  and  including  articles  asso- 
ciated with  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  and  "  Ra- 


Interest  in  the  collection  is  greatly  enhanced 
by  the  knowledge  of  the  fact  that  many  of  the 
more  interesting  articles  were  the  product  of 
the  genius  and  skill  of  Don  Antonio  and  Dona 
Mariana  themselves.  Conspicuous  among  the 
latter  are  the  figures  of  a  Spanish  woman  and 
man,  mounted  upon  gorgeously  caparisoned 
steeds  for  which  the  State  was  at  the  time 
famous,  both  figures  attired  in  full  Spanish  cos- 
tumes, faithful  to  history,  with  not  an  item 
omitted.  Near  by  is  a  miniature  of  San  Luis 
Rey  Mission  building,  walls  and  grounds,  as 
seen  before  the  days  of  secularization. 

There  are  sketches  in  black  and  white  and  in 
oil,  all  of  rare  merit,  and  parchments  of  price- 
less value.  Conspicuous  among  the  curios  is 
the  little  mahogany  table,  ordered  made  by  Don 
Antonio  for  the  special  convenience  and  com- 
fort of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  in  her  literary 
work,  after  the  unfortunate  mishap  that  crip- 



pled  her  for  life  and  made  it  difficult  for  her 
to  write  except  in  a  reclining  position. 

In  this  collection  is  the  first  cannon  brought 
to  California,  of  which  Mrs.  Jackson  thus 
wrote  in  "  Glimpses  of  California  and  the  Mis- 
sions": "The  place  of  honor  in  the  room  is 
given,  as  well  it  might  be,  to  a  small  cannon, 
the  first  cannon  brought  into  California.  It 
was  made  in  1717,  and  was  brought  by  Father 
Junipero  Serra  to  San  Diego  in  1769.  After- 
ward it  was  given  to  the  San  Gabriel  Mission; 
but  it  still  bears  its  old  name,  *  San  Diego.'  It 
is  an  odd  little  arm,  only  about  two  feet  long, 
and  requiring  but  six  ounces  of  powder.  Its 
swivel  is  made  with  a  rest  to  set  firm  in  the 
ground.  It  has  taken  many  long  journeys  on 
the  backs  of  mules,  having  been  in  great 
requisition  in  the  early  Mission  days  for  the 
firing  of  salutes  at  festivals  and  feasts." 

The  future  historian,  let  us  hope,  will  do  at 
least  partial  justice  to  the  far-sighted  wisdom 
and  the  broad  generosity  of  Don  Antonio  and 
Dona  Mariana  in  patiently  assembling  this 
unique  collection,  from  all  quarters  of  the  globe, 
and  at  such  sacrifice  as  no  one  ever  will  know, 
and  presenting  it  as  a  free  gift  to  Los  Angeles, 
when  a  king's  ransom  would  have  been  paid  for 
it,  had  she  been  content  with  its  removal  hence. 



Appearances  are  deceptive.  Things  are  not 
always  what  they  seem.  Guadalajara  may  have 
been  as  beautiful  as  Dona  Mariana  in  her  mind's 
eye  had  pictured  it.  But  travel  farther  into 
the  interior  satisfied  her  that  other  places,  and 
for  a  variety  of  reasons,  were  more  desirable 
as  a  place  of  ultimate  residence,  and  when  the 
City  of  Oaxaca  was  reached  Guadalajara  lost 
the  opportunity  of  securing  a  rare  acquisition. 

Although  remote  from  the  capital  and  from 
centers  of  so-called  civilization,  easily  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  railway  connec- 
tions, Oaxaca,  in  the  judgment  of  Dona  Mari- 
ana, is  the  garden  spot  of  the  earth,  to  which 
she  will  joyfully  return  when  the  strife  in  the 
Republic  shall  have  ceased. 

Senora  Coronel  came  north  in  August  of 
1912,  and  has  been  dividing  her  time  between 
relatives  in  Los  Angeles  and  its  environs. 

The  land  holdings  of  Dona  Mariana  in  the 
State  of  Oaxaca  are  not  measured  by  varas 
or  by  acres.  Their  hacienda  is  so  many  leagues 
in  one  direction  by  so  many  leagues  in  an- 
other. Poor  indeed  would  be  the  landlord  the 
limits  of  whose  hacienda  could  be  measured 
by  the  eye.  "  Oh,  we  know  nothing  about 
acres,"  said  Dona  Mariana.  "  If  a  man  has 
land  for  sale  it  is  so  much  for  4  the  piece/  and 


ANA.   (Permission  of  Miss  Annie  B.  Picker,  Pasadena.) 

"  A  beautiful  young  Mexican  woman.  *  *  *  Her  clear,  olive 
skin,  soft  brown  eyes,  delicate,  sensitive  nostrils,  and  broad, 
smiling  mouth,  are  all  of  the  Spanish  Madonna  type;  and  when 
her  low  brow  is  bound  *  *  *  by  turban  folds  *  *  *  her  face 
becomes  a  picture  indeed.  She  is  the  young  wife  of  a  gray- 
headed  Mexican,  Senor  Don  Antonio."  (Mrs.  Jackson  in 
"  Glimpses  of  California  and  the  Missions.") 


Don  Antonio  de  Coronet  and  the  first  cannon  in  California, 
brought  by  Father  Junipero  Serra  in  1769. 


'  the  piece '  may  contain  five,  ten,  or  twenty 
thousand  acres,  as  you  measure  land  up  here. 
The  vendor  is  quite  indifferent;  he  doesn't  seem 
to  care  a  rap  whether  you  buy  or  not,  unless 
he  happens  to  take  a  fancy  to  the  would-be 
purchaser.  In  that  event  the  price  cuts  little 
figure;  it  is  usually  quite  normal,  and  coupled 
with  the  condition  that  the  buyer  build  near  to 
him,  his  companionship  appearing  to  be  more 
valued  than  his  dollars.  It  is  a  life  of  ease  and 
of  contentment.  Human  labor  there  is  so  cheap 
that  one  becomes  accustomed  to  constant  and 
perfect  service.  Where  help  can  be  obtained 
in  abundance  for  ten  cents  a  day  there  is  not 
much  occasion  for  one  to  exert  himself  physic- 
ally. The  peon  in  Mexico,  like  the  black  man 
in  the  South  in  ante-bellum  days,  is  ever  at 
hand  to  brush  off  the  flies." 

What  is  fairer  than  a  day  in  June — in 
Southern  California!  On  the  expansive  porch 
of  "  El  Retrio,"  Covina  suburban  villa  of  Mr. 
C.  D.  Griffiths,  were  that  gentleman  and  his 
wife,  a  niece  of  Sefiora  de  Coronel,  and  grand- 
niece  Eileen;  Mrs.  Ellen  Pollard,  a  sister  of 
Sefiora  de  Coronel;  Mrs.  Earle,  another  sister, 
her  husband  and  three  children. 

And  there  were  Ramona  and  Alessandro. 
No,  on  reflection,  it  must  be  admitted  those 



characters  were  not  present,  though  it  al- 
ways seems  as  if  they  are  when  Dona  Mariana 
is  about. 

Mrs.  Jackson  usually  kept  standing  on  her 
desk  an  unframed  photograph  after  Dante 
Rossetti — two  heads,  a  man's  and  a  woman's, 
set  in  a  nimbus  of  clouds,  with  a  strange  and 
beautiful  regard  and  meaning  in  their  eyes. 
They  were  exactly  her  idea  of  what  Ramona 
and  Alessandro  looked  like.  The  characters  of 
the  novel,  she  thought,  came  nearer  to  material- 
ization in  this  photograph  than  in  any  other 

And  so  with  Dona  Mariana.  It  is  difficult 
to  disassociate  her  from  the  characters  she 
helped  so  much  to  create. 

It  was  distinctly  a  home  scene.  Mrs.  Grif- 
fiths had  sent  the  writer  this  note:  "My  aunt 
wishes  me  to  ask  you  and  your  wife  to  visit 
her  here  at  Covina  this  coming  Sunday.  If 
you  will  let  us  know  on  what  car  to  expect 
you,  Mr.  Griffiths  will  meet  you  at  Citrus  Ave- 
nue. If  convenient  to  you,  we  would  like  to 
have  you  come  and  spend  the  day  with  my 

It  was  most  convenient  and  we  spent  a  day. 
the  memories  of  which  will  only  fade  with  loss 
of  consciousness. 



"  How  did  it  happen  that  you  and  the  Don 
did  not  accompany  Mrs.  Jackson  on  her  jour- 
ney to  the  Indian  villages? "  she  was  asked. 
"  It  had  been  so  arranged,"  she  answered, 
"but  I  became  too  ill  to  go,  and  my  husband 
did  not  feel  like  leaving  me  alone  for  so  long 
a  period." 

Senora  de  Coronel  told  many  interesting 
stories  during  the  day.  The  one  concerning 
Bishop  Thaddeus  Amat  and  Saint  Vibiana's 
Cathedral  in  Los  Angeles  being  of  special  in- 
terest, is  here  retold: 

"It  will  sound  more  like  a  romance  than 
reality,"  said  Dona  Mariana.  "  Bishop  Thad- 
deus Amat  was  the  parish  priest  in  Los  Angeles 
when  Father  Mora  was  Bishop  of  Los  Angeles 
and  Monterey.  He  was  a  good  man,  oh,  one 
of  the  noblest  of  God's  creatures.  The  spiritual 
welfare  of  his  flock,  the  material  as  well  as  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  the  Indians — he  thought  of 
naught  else.  It  was  he  who  built  Saint  Vibi- 
ana's Cathedral  at  the  corner  of  Second  and 
Main  streets.  The  building  of  that  cathedral 
had  been  the  ambition  of  his  life.  It  is  an 
interesting  and  a  pathetic  story.  I  am  told  it 
is  the  purpose  soon  to  build  another  and  a 
larger  cathedral  elsewhere.  I  suppose  it  will  be 
done  before  long,  that  ground  having  become 



so  valuable  for  business  purposes;  but  it  will 
be  a  great  pity  to  tear  it  down.  I  shall  hope 
never  to  see  it  done. 

"  Bishop  Amat  was  a  poor  peasant  in  Italy, 
a  sheepherder.  When  quite  young  he  told  his 
parents  he  had  had  a  dream,  a  dream  that  he 
was  a  priest  and  had  built  a  great  cathedral 
to  a  Saint.  Soon  after  he  had  the  same  dream, 
and  when  it  was  repeated  the  third  time,  his 
mother,  thinking  it  a  very  strange  circum- 
stance, told  the  story  to  her  parish  priest. 
That  worthy  was  much  affected  by  the  rela- 
tion, and  asked  that  the  child  be  brought  to 
him.  He  was  found  to  be  unusually  intelli- 
gent, and  especially  informed  regarding  re- 
ligious matters.  He  had  improved  his  time 
while  attending  his  sheep  in  reading  church 
history,  and  was  indeed  so  precocious  that  the 
priest  declared  he  must  be  given  greater  oppor- 
tunities for  storing  his  mind  with  knowledge. 
He  was  sent  to  Rome  and  studied  for  the  priest- 
hood, and  in  time  was  ordained  and  sent  to 
America.  Not  long  after  his  arrival  in  this 
country  he  was  assigned  to  the  Los  Angeles 

"  While  serving  as  the  parish  priest  here, 
when  Bishop  Mora  was  in  charge  of  the  dio- 
cese, Bishop  Amat  had  occasion  to  visit  Rome. 


*   in 



n  co 








While  there  he  went  to  the  catacombs,  and 
there  witnessed  the  opening  of  the  casket  con- 
taining the  remains  of  Saint  Vibiana.  She  was 
a  child  Saint,  you  know,  and  the  casket  was 
small,  bound  about  with  brass  hoops.  Ex- 
posed to  view  the  features  for  the  moment 
were  seen  to  be  precisely  as  in  life,  her  childish 
beauty  in  no  way  changed,  but  exposure  to  the 
air  had  the  inevitable  and  almost  immediate 
effect — everything  disappeared  but  the  bare 

"Bishop  Amat  was  much  affected  by  what 
he  had  seen.  He  begged  that  the  skeleton  of 
Vibiana  be  given  to  him,  promising  that  if  it 
were  placed  in  his  charge  he  would  bring  it 
to  America  and  build  a  great  cathedral,  which 
would  be  named  for  the  Saint  and  dedicated 
to  her  memory. 

"Returning  here  he  at  once  began  the 
work.  Large  contributions  were  offered  to 
him,  but  all  these  were  refused.  He  wanted 
the  church  built  with  the  offerings  of  the  com- 
mon people.  And  so  it  came  about.  The 
money  poured  in  from  all  quarters,  and  soon 
he  had  enough  in  the  treasury  to  warrant  the 
building  of  the  Cathedral  of  Saint  Vibiana. 

"  In  the  upper  part  of  the  altar  is  a  crypt  in 
which  are  deposited  the  remains  of  the  Saint,  in 



the  little  brass-bound  casket  in  which  they  were 
brought  from  Rome.  Under  the  altar  are  the 
remains  of  Bishop  Amat. 

"  Would  it  not  seem  sacrilege  ever  to  remove 
them?  When  the  church  was  dedicated  Bishop 
Amat  told  the  congregation  that  he  had  a  story 
rather  than  a  sermon  to  deliver,  and  recited 
the  facts  substantially  as  here  given. 

"  After  this  great  work  was  achieved  Bishop 
Amat  undertook  another  worthy  enterprise,  in 
the  north.  In  the  charming  valley  in  which  is 
situated  the  Carmelo  Mission  he  secured  a  con- 
siderable tract  of  land  which  he  intended  to 
use  as  a  school  for  Indian  boys,  to  teach  them 
agriculture.  But  before  his  arrangements  for 
this  were  completed  the  sale  of  the  land  was 
negotiated  to  a  syndicate  of  white  men.  Bishop 
Amat  of  course  objected,  and  the  Indians  pro- 
tested. The  chiefs  of  all  the  Indian  villages 
were  asked  to  sign  a  certain  paper.  Before 
signing  they  brought  it  to  me,  and  I  advised 
them  not  to  sign  it,  or  any  other  paper  without 
first  submitting  it  to  Don  Antonio.  The  paper 
was  a  quit-claim  to  the  water  rights  to  all 
their  lands.  Had  they  signed  the  instrument 
their  lands  would  have  become  worthless.  It 
would  have  left  them  without  a  drop  of  water 
for  irrigating  purposes. 



"  Bishop  Amat  died  in  prayer.  An  attendant, 
thinking  it  time  he  should  retire,  gently  and 
hesitatingly  approached  the  old  man,  as,  upon 
his  prayer  rug  in  front  of  the  altar  at  the 
Church  of  Saint  Vibiana,  he  was  supposed  to 
be  counting  his  beads  and  repeating  his  invo- 
cations. Passing  the  altar,  some  time  there- 
after, he  found  the  devoted  old  man  still  in  the 
posture  of  heavenly  supplication.  Aged  and 
feeble,  weak  and  emaciated,  the  attendant  felt 
the  duty  doubly  incumbent  upon  him  of  with- 
drawing him  hence  to  his  chamber,  for  rest 
he  so  much  needed.  This  time  he  was  a  trifle 
more  insistent,  but  his  solicitude  was  quite 
needless;  Bishop  Amat  was  rigid  in  death!" 

On  the  slab  which  enclosed  the  crypt  in 
which  the  body  of  Vibiana  was  found  were 
these  Latin  words:  "Animas  innocenti  atque 
pudicae  Vibiana  in  pace  depositae  pridie  Kalen- 
das Septembris" ;  the  translation  of  which  is, 
"  To  the  innocent  and  chaste  soul  of  Vibiana, 
whose  remains  were  deposited  in  peace  on  the 
day  before  the  Calends  of  September." 

On  the  exterior  of  St.  Vibiana's  Cathedral  are 
these  letters,  "  D.O.M.,"  being  the  abbreviations 
for  "Deo  Optimo  Maximo,"  which  means,  "  To 
God  the  Greatest  and  Best."  Also  the  sentence, 
"  Dicata  A.D.  1876,"  signifying  the  date  when 



the  Cathedral  was  dedicated,  and  the  words, 
"Su6  Invocatione  Sanctae  Vibianae  Virginis  et 
Martyris,"  the  translation  of  which  is,  "  Under 
the  Invocation  of  Saint  Vibiana,  Virgin  and 

"  Don  Antonio,"  said  Dona  Mariana,  "  was 
loyal  to  the  Church,  but  he  ever  was  friendly 
with  the  Indians.  He  had  good  reason  for 
being  true  to  them,  for  upon  more  than  one  oc- 
casion they  had  saved  his  life. 

"  Don  Antonio  de  Coronel  was  one  of  the 
liberal  contributors  to  the  erection  of  Saint 
Vibiana's  Cathedral,  and  materially  aided  in  its 
construction  and  establishment.  A  special  part 
of  his  donation  was  a  number  of  thousands 
of  the  brick  which  went  into  the  building.  He 
was  buried  from  this  Cathedral. 

"  No,"  said  Senora  de  Coronel,  "  it  is  not  as 
you  suppose.  I  am  no  longer  attached  to  Los 
Angeles.  It  is  not  as  it  used  to  be.  I  am  anx- 
ious to  return  to  Mexico,  where  conditions  are 
much  as  they  were  here  fifty  years  ago.  But  I 
fear  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  normal  condi- 
tions are  restored.  Porfirio  Diaz  is  a  much 
abused  and  a  much  misunderstood  man.  He 
best  knew  how  to  rule  Mexico.  He  knew  every 
renegade  in  the  country,  and  how  to  handle  the 

warring  factions.     I  fear  it  will  be  a  long  time 



In  the  niche,  in  the  upper  part,  is  the  casket  containing  the 
remains  of  St.  Vibiana.  Under  the  altar  are  the  remains  of 
Bishop  Thaddeus  Amat,  builder  of  the  Cathedral. 





before  peace  is  restored.  Few  know  the  real 
cause  of  the  factional  division  of  the  country. 
Nearly  all  the  women  in  Mexico  are  true  to 
the  Church,  while  most  of  the  men  are  Masons; 
hence  the  irrepressible  conflict.  I  am  glad 
Senator  del  Valle  has  been  sent  down  there 
to  harmonize  the  factions.  He  may  not  suc- 
ceed; but  he  is  more  likely  to  do  so  than  any 
American  ambassador. 

"  No,  I  do  not  believe  the  Coronel  Collection 
will  be  removed  from  the  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce. That  seems  to  be  the  best  place  for 
it,  the  place  where  the  larger  number  of  peo- 
ple can  conveniently  see  it.  There  was  but  a 
single  condition  of  its  gift  to  the  city:  that  no 
item  in  the  collection  should  ever  be  disposed 
of  by  sale,  gift  or  otherwise.  It  must  always 
be  kept  intact,  just  as  it  was  when  I  turned 
it  over  to  the  city. 

"  I  never  met  Mr.  Jackson.  It  never  seemed 
convenient  for  me  to  visit  Mrs.  Jackson  at  her 
Colorado  home,  although  frequently  beseeched 
to  do  so.  I  knew  of  her  wish  to  be  buried  upon 
the  slopes  of  Cheyenne  Mountain.  There  were 
few  things  about  Mrs.  Jackson  I  did  not  know, 
for  we  were  like  sisters.  When  the  site  of 
her  grave  came  to  be  a  public  picnic  ground, 
and  Mr.  Jackson  began  to  feel  the  necessity 



of  removing  her  remains,  he  wrote  me,  asking 
if  his  wife  had  ever  expressed  a  willingness  to 
be  buried  elsewhere.  I  knew  the  reason  for 
her  peculiar  request,  and  wrote  to  him  about 
it,  leaving  him  to  draw  his  own  inferences  and 
act  upon  his  own  judgment.  It  was  due  wholly 
to  the  neglect  and  desecration  of  the  grave  of 
Junipero  Serra  that  Mrs.  Jackson  decided  upon 
a  burial  spot  upon  the  mountain  she  loved  so 
much.  She  never  dreamed  it  would  become  a 
public  resort.  I  was  glad  when  I  learned  that 
she  rested  peacefully  at  Evergreen  Cemetery, 
Colorado  Springs." 

Senora  de  Coronel  has  permitted  the  authors 
to  read  the  numerous  letters  written  by  Mrs. 
Jackson  to  her  and  Don  Antonio,  her  husband, 
and  to  publish  the  following,  selected  for  the 
purpose.  It  will  aid  to  understand  the  letters 
to  here  again  state  that  "  Ramona  "  was  written 
in  New  York  during  the  winter  of  1883-84, 
and  Mrs.  Jackson  returned  to  California  in  the 
latter  part  of  1884,  went  to  San  Francisco  in 
April,  1885,  and  there  died  August  i2th  of  that 



Santa  Barbara,  Cal., 

January  30,  1882. 
My  Dear  Friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coronel: 

...  I  have  now  been  one  week  in  Santa 
Barbara,  and  am  still  homesick  for  Los  An- 
geles. I  have  not  as  yet  seen  anything  so  fine 
as  the  San  Gabriel  Valley,  and  San  Bernardino 
Mountains  with  the  snows  on  the  tops,  and  I 
have  not  found  any  one  to  tell  me  the  things 
of  the  olden  time  so  eloquently  as  you  did. 

I  have  seen  Father  Sanchez,  Father 
O'Keefe  and  Father  Francis,  at  the  Mission, 
and  have  obtained  from  their  library  some 
books  of  interest.  From  the  west  window  of 
my  room  I  look  out  on  the  Mission  buildings. 
The  sun  rests  on  them  from  sunrise  to  sunset, 
and  they  seem  to  me  to  say  more  than  any 
human  voice  on  record  can  convey.  You  will 
perhaps  have  heard  that  I  was  so  unfortunate 
as  not  to  find  Mrs.  del  Valle  at  home,  so  I 
only  rested  two  hours  at  her  house  and  drove 
on  to  Santa  Barbara  that  night.  I  saw  some 
of  the  curious  old  relics,  but  the  greater  part 
of  them  were  locked  up,  and  Mrs.  del  Valle  had 
the  keys  with  her. 

The  most  interesting  part  of  my  journey 
was  San  Fernando.  There  I  could  spend  a 
whole  day,  and  I  must  tell  you  of  a  mistake 



I  made;  perhaps  if  you  see  Mr.  Pico  you  can 
rectify  it  for  me.  He  said  to  me,  when  he 
was  showing  me  some  of  the  relics  they  have, 
"  Now,  if  you  like,  you  can  take  some  one  of 
these  things."  Of  course  I  desired  very  much 
to  have  some  of  them;  but  I  replied,  merely 
out  of  the  wish  not  to  seem  greedy  or  ungrate- 
ful, "  Oh,  you  are  too  kind  to  think  of  such  a 
thing.  I  am  afraid  you  ought  not  to  give  away 
any  of  them.  Do  you  not  rather  prefer  to  keep 
them  for  the  Church?  "  And  then  he  did  not 
again  offer  them  to  me,  and  I  was  all  the  rest 
of  the  time  waiting  and  hoping  that  he  would; 
but  I  came  away  without  having  the  oppor- 
tunity again  to  take  anything.  I  suppose  you 
wil!  think  I  was  very  stupid.  Indeed,  I  think 
so  myself;  but  it  is  partly  that  I  do  not  under- 
stand the  customs  of  the  Spanish  people  in 
regard  to  such  things. 

If  it  should  happen  that  you  see  any  of  the 
family,  you  can  tell  them  of  my  regret  for 
having  made  such  a  mistake,  and  that  I  would 
be  very  glad  to  have  anything  they  would  like 
to  part  with.  One  of  the  old  candlesticks  I 
would  very  much  like  to  have,  or  one  of  the 
old  books  of  St.  Augustine  I  had  in  my  own 
mind  decided  that  I  would  choose. 

I  also  wanted  very  much  to  have  a  piece 












of  one  of  the  old  olive  trees  if  I  could  have 
found  one  that  had  blown  down — a  straight 
section  of  the  trunk  sawed  across,  about  six 
inches  thick,  to  make  a  round  block,  polished 
to  set  my  stone  bowl  on.  The  driver  promised 
to  take  two  of  the  old  palm  leaves  to  you  to 
keep.  I  thought  you  would  like  one;  the  wind 
had  strewed  the  ground  with  them.  But  I 
think  it  rained  so  hard  the  days  he  went  back 
he  did  not  stop  to  look  for  palm  leaves. 

When  I  come  again  with  the  artist  we  will 
go  to  San  Fernandb.  It  is  one  of  the  places  I 
desire  to  see  twice. 

I  send  you  also  by  to-day's  mail  a  copy 
of  my  little  volume  of  poems.  I  thought  that 
you  would  like  that  volume  better  than  any 
other  I  have  written.  In  a  little  more  than 
four  months  I  hope  to  see  you  again. 

Truly  yours,  and  with  many  thanks  for  all 
your  kindness, 

Helen  Jackson. 

San  Francisco,  1600  Taylor  St., 

June  27,  1885. 
My  Dear  Friends: 

I  am  glad  to  see  the  accounts  in  the  papers 
you  have  sent  me  of  some  farther  movements 
in  relation  to  the  Mission  Indians,  and  I  have 



been  much  cheered  by  an  interview  with  Prof. 

If  he  really  undertakes  to  get  something 
done  for  those  Indians,  he  will  be  worth  more 
than  all  the  Senators  and  Congressmen  put  to- 

I  hope  he  will  return  to  Southern  California 
and  visit  the  rest  of  the  villages.  He  is  think- 
ing of  it. 

Have  you  yet  been  up  the  Verdugo  canon 
to  get  those  two  baskets  I  ordered  from  the 
old  Indian  woman  there?  I  fear  she  will  think 
me  a  "  lying  white,"  if  she  does  not  get  the 
money  before  long. 

I  am  sorry  to  tell  you  I  am  still  in  bed:  the 
malarial  symptoms  seem  to  be  over,  but  it 
has  left  me  in  a  state  of  nervous  prostration 
which  nothing  touches.  I  can  eat  literally  noth- 
ing, and  of  course  am  very  weak;  it  has  been  a 
trying  experience  and  I  fear  I  have  months 
more  of  it  yet  to  come. 

It  is  a  year  to-morrow  since  I  broke  my  leg! 
My  unlucky  year. 

I  have  been  asked  by  one  of  the  eastern 
magazines  (a  children's  magazine)  to  write 
a  poem,  narrating  some  incident  or  legend  in 
California  life — if  possible  something  to  do  with 
the  Indians.  I  do  not  know  anything  which 


seems  to  me  to  be  adapted  to  tell  in  a  ballad; 
and  I  have  wondered  if  in  Mr.  Coronel's  store- 
house of  memories  he  could  not  think  of  some 
old  stories  which  would  be  suitable  for  the 
purpose.  If  he  can  and  you  would  write  them 
down  for  me  I  would  be  greatly  obliged  to 
you.  I  hope  you  are  all  well. 

Always   faithfully   your   friend, 

Helen  Jackson. 

P.  S.  When  you  get  those  baskets  I  would 
like  to  have  them  sent  by  express.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  I  shall  have  to  lie  here  for  many 
weeks  yet,  and  I  shall  enjoy  having  them. 
Send  with  them,  also,  the  flat  one  I  gave  to  you 
to  keep.  I'd  like  that  to  keep  work  in  on  my 

The  following  is  the  last  letter  written  by 
Mrs.  Jackson  to  the  Coronels,  and  preceded  her 
death  just  six  days: 

San  Francisco,   Calif. 

1600  Taylor  St., 

Aug.  6,  1885. 
Dear  Mr.  Coronel: 

When  the  baskets  are  done  send  them  by 
express  to  this  address:  Mrs.  Merritt  Trimble, 
59  E.  25th  St.,  New  York. 



Send  all  the  baskets  you  have. 

I  am  failing  now  fast.  I  think  I  cannot  live 
a  great  while. 

In  your  letter  to  Mrs.  Trimble  tell  her  about 
the  stone  bowls  and  pestles,  and  ask  her  if  she 
wants  those  too.  She  will  write  and  tell  you. 

Goodby.  With  very  much  love  to  your  wife 
and  you  always, 

Helen  Jackson. 




"^  T*OU  are   going  to  get  well,   Mariana. 

y       You  will  survive  me.    I  feel  that  you 

will  live  to  complete  my  work."    Thus 

said  Mrs.  Jackson  to  me  but  a  few  short  weeks 

before  her  death.    Often  she  had  talked  in  that 

vein.    She  seemed  ever  to  have  a  presentiment 

that  I  would  survive  her. 

One  of  her  most  coveted  projects,  after  her 
visit  to  the  Indian  settlements  and  her  report 
to  the  Government,  was  the  institution  at  some 
available  place  of  a  school  for  Indian  women 
and  girls,  where  instruction  could  be  given  in 
all  of  the  useful  arts,  to  the  end  that  they 
might  in  time  become  self-sustaining.  Regard- 
ing the  details  of  this  enterprise  Mrs.  Jackson 
talked  frequently  with  my  husband,  Don  An-» 
tonio,  and  myself. 

"I  shall  endeavor  to  secure  an  appropria- 
tion from  Congress  for  the  necessary  grounds, 
and  these  shall  be  deeded  directly  to  the  In- 
dians," said  Mrs.  Jackson.  "  For  the  buildings 



I  shall  appeal  to  the  people  of  the  East  for 
donations,  and  I  shall  endeavor  to  have  the 
institution  abundantly  endowed.  But  you  and 
Don  Antonio  must,  at  whatever  sacrifice,  take 
charge  of  the  institution  and  make  a  success  of 
it.  Congress  has  passed  the  act  that  you  and 
the  Don  and  I  have  drafted,  providing  for  the 
granting  of  lands  to  the  Indians  in  severalty; 
but  little  good  will  come  of  it  unless  these  poor 
people  are  taught  how  to  make  a  living  for 
themselves  aside  from  the  weaving  of  baskets. 
Nobody  but  you  and  dear  Don  Antonio  can 
successfully  carry  out  my  ideas.  I  am  count- 
ing upon  meeting  with  numerous  obstacles  in 
getting  the  Indians  to  give  up  their  tribal  rela- 
tions. To  them  it  will  be  an  immense  prob- 
lem, a  complete  change  in  their  mode  of  life, 
and  we  may  not  expect  that  all  will  adopt  it 
cheerfully.  I  am  counting  upon  the  influence 
that  you  and  Don  Antonio  can  exert  to  recon- 
cile them  to  the  transformation.  Indeed  I 
should  entertain  all  sorts  of  fear  and  appre- 
hension and  doubt  regarding  the  outcome,  but 
for  the  compelling  influence  which  you  and 
your  husband  can  exert.  No  one  else  I 
have  in  mind  can  be  intrusted  with  the 

Mrs.  Jackson  gave  much  thought  to  the  work- 



ing  out  of  the  details  at  the  California  end  of 
the  line.  She  counted  largely  upon  the  sup- 
port, financial  and  otherwise,  that  Hon.  Henry 
M.  Teller,  then  Secretary  of  the  Interior,  would 
give  to  her  noble  and  highly  practical  enter- 
prise. Don  Antonio  and  I  sympathized  thor- 
oughly with  her,  and  stood  ready  to  lend  hearty 
assistance  when  required.  But  Mrs.  Jackson's 
early  death  forever  sealed  the  fate  of  the  edu- 
cational undertaking. 

Nearly  thirty  years  have  passed  since  Helen 
Hunt  Jackson  put  her  arm  lovingly  about  me 
and  declared  her  belief  that  I  would  survive 
her,  and  that  the  completion  of  her  life's  work 
would  devolve  upon  me.  To  some  persons 
"Time's  unpitying  fingers"  may  begin  "to 
smooth  out  and  obliterate  the  lines,  once  so 
sharp  and  distinct,  with  which  she  engraved 
herself  on  the  consciousness  of  her  contempo- 
raries." To  some  persons  even  her  memory 
may  have  grown  dim,  as  the  impression  of  a 
face  long  unseen  fades,  until  no  longer  can  be 
recalled  the  exact  look  and  smile.  This  is  re- 
garded as  the  inevitable  law,  each  day  bringing 
its  "  little  dust  our  soon  choked  hearts  to  fill." 
But  it  has  never  been  so  with  me.  Never  a  day 
or  night  but  I  feel  her  presence.  Once,  I  well 
remember,  she  said:  "  Mariana,  if  it  be  possible 



in  the  next  world  to  come  to  you  in  trouble  or 
grief  or  distress,  you  may  count  upon  me  doing 
so."  The  promise  has  never  been  forgotten. 
The  suggestion  has  never  once  passed  from 
my  memory. 

Eight  months  ago,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
terrible  fratricidal  strife  that  has  brought  so 
much  misery  to  my  country  and  its  people,  I 
thought  it  best  I  should  return  to  the  United 
States  before  it  should  become  too  hazardous 
to  undertake  the  journey.  It  involved  a  mule- 
back  trip  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  over 
the  mountains  to  the  nearest  railway  station; 
not  a  cheerful  prospect  for  a  woman  of  my 
years  to  undertake.  But  I  entered  upon  it 
with  the  utmost  confidence  that  Helen  Hunt 
Jackson  would  be  with  me  every  foot  of  the 
way,  protecting  me  from  every  possible  danger. 
As  though  in  life,  she  seemed  to  place  her  hand 
upon  my  shoulder  and  assure  me  that  all  would 
be  well. 

I  have  never  thought  much  about  spiritual- 
ism. I  am  not  a  spiritualist.  And  yet,  oh, 
so  many  times  since,  when  trouble  and  grief 
have  been  my  lot,  when  clouds  encircled  my 
pathway,  when  gloom  surrounded  and  threat- 
ened to  engulf  me,  I  have  suddenly  been 
brought  to  a  realization  that  Mrs.  Jackson's 



Intimate  friend  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson,  photographed  in  1913— 
especially  for  this  volume.  Senora  de  Coronel  and  her  husband, 
Don  Antonio,  really  inspired  "  Ramona  "  and  gave  to  its  author 
the  principal  facts  of  the  story.  She  is  holding  the  copy  of 
"Ramona  given  her  by  Mrs.  Jackson. 



Presented  by  the  translator  to  Sefiora  de  Coroncl. 


spirit  was  near,  that  she  was  shielding  me, 
that  in  her  presence  no  harm  could  come. 

My  acquaintance  and  association  with  her 
has  constituted  one  of  the  fondest  and  sweet- 
est recollections  of  my  whole  life.  Our  meet- 
ing was  singular.  Had  she  come  in  any  other 
way  than  she  did,  her  first  visit,  it  is  likely, 
would  have  been  her  last.  I  had  never  heard 
of  her  or  her  books.  Like  most  Spanish  people, 
I  shrank  from  publicity.  Had  she  simply  in- 
troduced herself  as  a  correspondent  of  the 
"  Century  Magazine,"  it  is  likely  I  should  have 
taken  little  interest  in  what  she  had  to  say. 
But  she  brought  a  letter  from  Bishop  Mora  to 
Don  Antonio  and  myself.  In  it  the  Bishop 
asked  us  to  give  her  all  the  information  we 
could  regarding  the  Mission  Indians.  This  we 
proceeded  to  do,  her  interest  in  our  relation  of 
the  story  of  their  treatment,  so  far  as  had 
come  within  our  observation  and  experience, 
being  singularly  intense. 

She  made  an  engagement  to  come  again  the 
following  week,  and  it  happened  to  be  Christ- 
mas day,  1 88 1.  While  she  and  Don  Antonio 
and  myself  were  seated  on  the  veranda,  at  the 
old  hacienda  in  the  orange  grove,  Los  Angeles, 
five  or  six  Indian  chiefs  rode  into  the  court,  in 



a  high  state  of  excitement.  Don  Antonio  ex- 
cused himself  from  the  circle  and  stepped  out 
to  converse  with  the  chiefs.  They  were  talk- 
ing with  great  animation,  and  to  my  amazement 
I  observed  that  Mrs.  Jackson  was  following 
the  conversation  with  the  closest  attention,  al- 
though she  could  understand  not  a  word  of 
what  was  being  said.  I  noticed  her  lips  mov- 
ing in  unison  with  the  voices  of  the  chiefs, 
although  she  made  no  audible  sound.  She 
seemed  to  be  repeating  what  they  said,  or 
endeavoring  to  comprehend  its  meaning.  It 
was  perfectly  obvious  that  they  were  deeply  in 
earnest,  and  finally,  as  if  she  could  stand  it 
no  longer,  Mrs.  Jackson  addressed  Don  An- 
tonio and  asked  if  she  might  not  talk  with  the 
Indians.  The  request  was  of  course  promptly 
granted.  I  acted  as  interpreter,  and  soon  Mrs. 
Jackson  was  in  full  possession  of  the  reason  for 
their  visit. 

White  men  had  secured  possession  of  the 
water  rights  to  their  land,  and  it  was  to  them 
no  better  than  a  desert.  Mrs.  Jackson  compre- 
hended the  whole  story,  and  secured  the 
consent  of  the  Indians  to  visit  their  settle- 
ments, Don  Antonio  assuring  them  that  she 
was  their  friend  and  would  work  in  their 



She  had  secured  the  services  of  Mr.  Abbot 
Kinney,  and  obtained  his  appointment  as  a 
co-commissioner  soon  after,  and  the  details 
of  the  now  celebrated  official  journey  through 
the  country  of  the  Southern  California  Mission 
Indians  were  arranged  at  our  home. 

The  party  consisted  of  Mrs.  Jackson,  Mr. 
Abbot  Kinney,  the  late  Mr.  Henry  Sandham, 
the  "  Century's  "  artist,  and  Mr.  N.  H.  Mitchell, 
the  proprietor  of  a  livery  stable  and  hotel  at 
Anaheim,  whose  two-seated  carriage  was  used 
for  a  part  of  the  journey,  he  acting  as  driver. 
This  carriage  was  soon  abandoned,  however, 
not  being  suited  to  all  purposes  of  the  trip,  and 
most  of  it  was  made  on  horseback,  or  rather 
mule-back,  as  the  sure-footed  little  burros  of 
the  Indians  were  more  suited  to  the  condition 
of  the  trails  over  the  mountains.  Indeed,  I 
later  was  advised  that  the  party  visited  some 
places  high  up  on  the  mountain  sides,  or  on  the 
borders  of  the  desert,  where  it  was  possible 
only  to  go  afoot.  On  one  occasion,  contem- 
plating a  hazardous  journey  into  the  mountains, 
I  remonstrated  with  Mrs.  Jackson  and  at- 
tempted to  dissuade  her  from  the  trip.  Her 
answer  was,  "I  must  see  those  poor  Indians, 
and  I'll  go  if  I  die." 

At  this  time,  before  the  journey  was  under- 



taken,  Mrs.  Jackson  was  a  guest  at  Mrs.  Kim- 
ball's  boarding  house  on  New  High  Street, 
then  about  the  best  place  of  entertainment  in 
Los  Angeles.  Mr.  Kinney  and  Mr.  Sandham, 
pending  completion  of  the  arrangements,  were 
guests  at  our  home. 

Don  Antonio  was  a  veritable  encyclopedia, 
and  was  able  to  recall,  with  the  slightest  effort, 
every  important  event  since  his  boyhood.  His 
knowledge  covered  the  whole  period  of  Spanish, 
Mexican  and  American  rule,  from  the  time  of 
his  arrival  in  California  until  his  death.  His 
information  regarding  the  Indians  was  particu- 
larly full  and  accurate;  hence  he  was  of  invalu- 
able assistance  to  Mrs.  Jackson  in  all  her  work. 
But  his  knowledge  of  the  English  language 
was  limited,  and  the  work  of  interpreting  fell 
largely  upon  me. 

Mrs.  Jackson  made  many  notes  regarding  the 
story  of  "  Ramona "  at  our  home.  She  dis- 
cussed the  intended  book  with  us  on  many 
occasions,  and  told  us  she  would  name  it  "  Ra- 
mona." She  would  gladly  have  located  the 
scene  of  "  Ramona "  at  our  hacienda,  and 
doubtless  would  have  done  so  but  for  the  sug- 
gestion made  by  Don  Antonio  himself,  and 
insisted  upon  by  him,  that  Camulos  was  the 

more  fitting  place.     We  both  assured  her  that 



the  Camulos  Rancho  was  one  of  the  few  re- 
maining of  the  old  Spanish  homesteads  where 
the  original  life  of  a  California  hacienda  still 
existed.  It  was  about  the  only  place  yet  ex- 
isting where  the  original  California  hacienda 
could  still  be  studied  in  all  its  poetry  and 
importance.  We  told  her  of  the  patrician  char- 
acter of  Camulos.  Here,  we  told  her,  might 
still  be  studied  the  pressing  of  the  Mission 
olive  in  the  old  morteros,  the  gathering  of  the 
vintage  in  Hispano-Indian  fashion,  the  making 
of  Spanish  wine,  the  Spanish  sheep-shearing, 
under  an  Indian  capitan\  here  were  still  the 
picturesque  retainers;  here  were  distinguished 
family  traditions — all  the  elements,  in  fact, 
upon  which  the  book  might  grow  with  historic 

Notwithstanding  all  these  facts,  the  author 
might  easily  and  with  perfect  fidelity  to  truth 
and  tradition,  have  located  the  scenes  at  the 
Coronel  hacienda.  But  there  was  another  fact, 
another  barrier,  and  a  well-nigh  insurmountable 
one:  the  excessive  modesty  of  Don  Antonio 
himself.  So  marked  a  characteristic  of  him 
was  this  that,  notwithstanding  all  he  had  done 
for  Los  Angeles,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that 
he  had  labored  for  thirty  years  to  clear  the 
title  to  Elysian  Park,  that  it  might  become  the 



property  of  the  city  in  fee  simple,  without  a 
shade  or  shadow,  he  steadily  declined  even  the 
small  honor,  so  often  sought  to  be  conferred 
upon  him,  of  having  a  street  named  for  him. 

But  it  is  true,  it  is  history — and  it  would 
not  be  history  if  it  were  not  true — that  the 
inspiration  of  "  Ramona  "  was  Don  Franco  An- 
tonio de  Coronel,  my  husband,  under  whose 
expansive  roof  it  sprouted  and  grew,  and  there 
it  was  christened  with  the  name  by  which  it 
soon  came  to  be  known  and  ever  will  be  known, 
"  Ramona." 

After  Mrs.  Jackson's  return  to  California  in 
1884,  the  story  of  "  Ramona  "  having  been  pub- 
lished, she  did  much  writing  at  our  home. 
She  had  broken  her  leg  before  leaving  Colorado 
Springs  by  falling  down  the  stairway  in  her 
home,  and  she  had  to  write  in  a  reclining  posi- 
tion. Don  Antonio,  my  husband,  had  a  little 
table  made  especially  for  her  use,  Mrs.  Jack- 
son specifying  its  height,  and  requesting  the 
placing  of  two  shelves  in  it  upon  which  she 
could  lay  her  finished  sheets  or  notes.  Much 
of  her  writing  during  her  stay  in  Los  Angeles 
in  1884-85,  was  done  on  this  table,  which  is 
now  a  part  of  the  Coronel  Collection  in  the 
Los  Angeles  Chamber  of  Commerce. 

Mrs.  Jackson  selected  the  Camulos  Rancho 




as  the  home  of  Ramona.  This  I  know,  not 
only  because  of  general  conversations  with  her, 
but  she  positively  declared  to  me  that  it  was 
Camulos  Rancho  which  she  sought  to  describe 
in  the  story  of  "  Ramona,"  and  that  that  rancho 
was  the  home  of  Ramona. 

In  the  latter  part  of  1884  Mrs.  Jackson 
returned  to  Los  Angeles.  "  Ramona  "  had  not 
been  issued  from  the  press  at  the  time  of  her 
departure  from  the  East.  I  went  with  her  to 
the  postoffice  one  day,  when  a  package  was 
delivered  to  her  there.  She  opened  it,  and 
there  was  a  copy  of  "  Ramona,"  the  first  she 
had  seen.  She  at  once  said  to  me:  "  Mariana, 
here  is  the  first  copy  of  my  book,  and  I  give  it 
to  you."  Taking  a  pencil  she  wrote  on  the  fly- 
leaf, "With  compliments  of  the  author,"  and 
then  handed  it  to  me.  I  have  the  same  book 

I  have  also  the  first  copy  of  the  book  con- 
taining the  Spanish  translation  of  "  Ramona," 
which  was  sent  me  by  the  translator. 

Naturally  I  am  proud  of  the  fact  that  Mrs. 
Jackson  wished  to  make  our  home  the  home  of 
Ramona;  but  greater  honor  have  I  always  had, 
and  greater  comfort  will  I  ever  enjoy,  in  the 
fact  that  the  gifted  author,  beloved  of  two 
continents,  enshrined  in  the  hearts  of  the  peo- 



pic  of  the  whole  world,  regarded  me  as  her 
best  friend. 

Her  name  and  her  work  are  immortalized. 
Nothing  I  can  say  will  add  to  her  fame. 

Los  Angeles,  July,  1913- 




IT  was  Camulos  ranch  to  which  Helen  Hunt 
Jackson  was  directed  by  Don  Antonio  de 
Coronel  and  his  cultured  wife. 

To  this  ranch  Mrs.  Jackson  journeyed.  It 
was  the  estate  of  Don  Ygnacio  del  Valle,  and 
his  widow,  Dona  Ysabel  del  Valle,  was  its 
owner  and  mistress. 

Sefiora  del  Valle  gave  much  of  her  life 
to  humanitarian  work,  and  being  absent  upon 
an  errand  of  mercy  upon  the  occasion  of  Mrs. 
Jackson's  visit,  did  not  see  her;  but  her  re- 
ligious ardor  and  fidelity,  so  correctly  portrayed 
in  the  character  of  Sefiora  Moreno,  was  sub- 
sequently related  to  the  author  of  "  Ramona  " 
by  the  Coronels. 

That  Camulos  ranch  was  selected  and  in- 
tended as  the  home  of  Ramona  is  not  to  be 
questioned.  Mrs.  Jackson  herself  so  declared, 
especially  to  the  Coronels  and  to  one  of  the 
authors  of  this  volume,  and  the  description  in 
the  story  of  the  ranch  and  its  appurtenances 
and  surroundings  positively  identify  it. 



Mrs.  Jackson  was  not  disappointed.  Chapter 
II  of  "  Ramona  "  opens  with  this  general  state- 
ment of  the  ranch:  "The  Seftora  Moreno's 
house  was  one  of  the  best  specimens  to  be 
found  in  California  of  the  representative  house 
of  the  half-barbaric,  half-elegant,  wholly-gen- 
erous and  free-handed  life  led  there  by  Mexican 
men  and  women  of  degree  in  the  early  part 
of  this  century,  under  the  rule  of  the  Spanish 
and  Mexican  viceroys.  ...  It  was  a  pic- 
turesque life,  with  more  of  sentiment  and 
gaiety  in  it;  more  also  that  was  truly  dra- 
matic; more  romance  than  will  ever  be  seen 
again  on  those  sunny  shores.  The  aroma  of  it 
all  lingers  there  still;  industries  and  inventions 
have  not  yet  slain  it;  it  will  last  out  its  cen- 

A  visit  to  Camulos  ranch  on  July  2,  1913, 
enables  me  to  revoke  the  declaration  that  "  the 
aroma  of  it  all  lingers  there  still."  "The 
Senora  Moreno's  house  "  is  there  just  as  Mrs. 
Jackson  saw  and  described  it.  There  are  the 
same  white  walls,  the  wide  court  verandas, 
"  and  a  still  broader  one  across  the  entire  front, 
which  looked  to  the  south."  There  is  the 
dining-room,  "  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  court- 
yard from  the  kitchen,"  and  the  same  stairs 
leading  from  a  higher  to  a  lower  part  of  the 



(i)  Under  these  trees  were  the  washing  stones  where  Ales- 
sandrp  first  saw  Ramona.  (2)  South  veranda  of  Camulos 
dwelling,  as  it  appeared  in  1913. 


"  She  caused  to  be  set  up  upon  every  one  of  the  soft  rounded 
hills  *  *  *  a  large  wooden  cross,  *  *  *  that  the  heretics  may 
know,  when  they  go  by,  that  they  are  on  the  estate  of  a  good 
Catholic."  "  Ramona.  (2)  To  the  left  the  plank  fence  on 
which  Margarita  hung  the  altar  cloth,  and  from  which  it  was 
blown  and  then  torn;  the  bells,  cross  and  famous  little  chapel, 
Camulos,  as  they  appeared  1913. 


south  veranda,  where  Alessandro  sat  and  played 
his  violin  to  the  stricken  Felipe.  Father  Sal- 
vierderra's  room,  at  the  southeast  corner  of 
the  house,  and  the  barred  window  through 
which  Ramona  "  saw  Alessandro  pacing  up  and 
down  the  walk  "  in  the  moonlight  and  by  which 
she  sat,  peering  sadly  and  wistfully  into  the 
night,  made  a  prisoner  by  the  angered  Seriora 
Moreno  when  discovered  by  her  in  the  arms 
of  Alessandro  in  the  willows — these  are  there, 
just  as  Mrs.  Jackson  saw  and  described  them. 

On  the  hills  to  the  north  and  south  are  the 
identical  crosses  described  in  the  story  of  "  Ra- 
mona," erected  by  Senora  Moreno  "that  the 
heretics  may  know,  when  they  go  by,  that  they 
are  on  the  estate  of  a  good  Catholic,  and  that 
the  faithful  may  be  reminded  to  pray."  There 
they  still  stand,  "  summer  and  winter,  rain  and 
shine,  the  silent,  solemn,  outstretched  arms" — 
the  Blessed  Cross,  the  sudden  sight  of  which 
has  wrought  miracles  of  conversion  on  the  most 
hardened.  "  Certain  it  is  that  many  a  good 
Catholic  halted  and  crossed  himself  when  he 
first  beheld  them  in  the  lonely  places,  stand- 
ing out  in  sudden  relief  against  the  blue  sky." 

The  identical  little  chapel,  "dearer  to  the 
Senora  than  her  house,"  with  its  white  sides, 
in  a  setting  of  orange  trees,  is  still  there.  Its. 



altar  is  yet  "  surrounded  by  a  really  imposing 
row  of  holy  and  apostolic  figures/'  Its  chests 
yet  contain  the  most  costly  and  elaborate  vest- 
ments, some  so  heavily  braided  with  gold  as 
almost  to  be  able  to  stand  alone. 

This  chapel  is  a  part  of  the  history  of  the 
Catholic  Church  in  California.  Services  are 
held  within  its  historic  and  sacred  portals  as 
of  old.  Priests,  many  of  them  high  dignitaries 
of  the  Church,  visit  it,  that  they  may  be  able 
to  say  they  officiated  at  its  altar.  Some  bring 
their  own  vestments,  not  knowing  what  the 
chests  of  the  chapel  contain,  and  are  astonished 
when  shown  the  beautiful,  gold-braided  robes 
long  kept  and  used  in  this  miniature  house  of 
worship.  Certain  religious  privileges  have  been 
granted  to  this  little  chapel  which  give  to  it  a 
special  character. 

The  chapel  is  only  a  frail  frame  building,  the 
interior  being  twenty  feet  long  and  fourteen 
feet  wide.  Connected  with  the  front  is  a  roofed 
arcade,  sides  open  and  floored,  thirty  feet  long 
and  fourteen  feet  wide.  In  this  arched  addition 
are  long  benches  running  along  the  sides,  for 
those  who  cannot  find  room  within. 

The  torn  altar  cloth  is  still  in  existence  and 
use,  though  not  the  only  one  that  adorns  the 
altar  from  time  to  time.  This  particular  piece 



was  made  from  Senora  del  Valle's  wedding 
gown.  It  is  the  subject  of  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  eventful  climaxes  of  the  story. 
The  fence  on  which  Margarita  hung  this  altar 
adornment  to  dry  after  washing  it,  preparatory 
to  the  coming  of  Father  Salvierderra,  is  still 
intact.  It  divides  the  yard  from  the  artichoke 
patch,  into  which  the  cloth  was  blown  and 
then  dragged  and  torn  by  Capitan,  Juan  Canito's 
favorite  collie. 

There  is  the  same  wide,  straight  walk,  shaded 
by  a  trellis,  that  leads  down  to  the  brook  and 
the  willow  trees,  where  were  "  the  broad  flat 
stone  washboards,  on  which  was  done  all  the 
family  washing."  But  the  brook  is  now  to  the 
north,  nearer  the  house.  The  trellis  is  not  now 
"  so  knotted  and  twisted  with  grapevines  that 
little "  of  the  woodwork  is  to  be  seen,  but 
grapevines  are  vigorously  climbing  over  it. 

The  big  gnarled  willow  tree,  under  which 
were  the  flat  stone  washboards,  and  in  the  even- 
ing shadows  of  which  Alessandro  first  beheld 
Ramona,  is  still  at  the  foot  of  the  arbor.  The 
pomegranate  trees  yet  mark  the  border  of  the 
orange  grove  in  front  of  the  house. 

"  The  little  graveyard  on  the  hillside,"  where 
the  Senora  Moreno  was  "laid  by  the  side  of 
her  husband  and  her  children,"  with  its  picket 


fence  and  wooden  crosses,  still  bears  its  awful 
silence  in  the  shadow  of  a  single  pepper  tree. 

The  gray  stone  bowls,  "  hollowed  and  pol- 
ished, shining  inside  and  out,"  "made  by  the 
Indians,  nobody  knew  how  many  ages  ago, 
.  .  .  with  only  stones  for  tools,"  which  were 
used  as  flower  pots,  now  adorn  the  rim  of  the 
cement  fountain  which  is  in  the  orange  trees 
near  the  chapel. 

Four  shepherd  dogs,  the  common  ranch 
breed,  answered  the  call  for  dinner,  and  sug- 
gested their  illustrious  forefather  Capitan, 
Juan  Canito's  favorite  collie,  which  went  away 
in  the  stillness  of  that  tragic  night  with  Ra- 
mona  and  Alessandro,  when  they  eloped  from 
Camulos  ranch  and  fled  to  Temecula.  "  The 
dogs,  the  poultry,  all  loved  the  sight  of  Ra- 

And  there  is  yet  to  be  seen  the  same  public 
road  which  the  commissioners  located  in  the 
rear  of  the  house,  concerning  which  Seriora 
Moreno  exclaimed:  "It  is  well.  Let  their 
travel  be  where  it  belongs,  behind  our  kitchen, 
and  no  one  have  sight  of  the  front  doors  of 
our  houses,  except  friends  who  have  come  to 
visit  us.  ...  Whenever  she  saw  passing  the 
place  wagons  or  carriages  belonging  to  the 
hated  Americans,  it  gave  her  a  distinct  thrill 



(i)  The  grape  arbor,  Camulos,  leading  to  the  washing  stones, 
as  it  appeared  1913.    (2)  The  olive  mill  and  tank,  Camulos,  1913. 


(i)  Inner  court,  Camulos,  as  it  appeared  1913.  (2)  The  old 
winery.  Camulos,  as  it  appeared  1913.  "  Every  hand  on  the 
place  was  hard  at  work,  picking  the  grapes,  treading  them  out 
in  tubs,  and  emptying  the  juice  into  stretched  rawhides  swung 
from  crossbeams."  " Ramona" 


of  pleasure  to  think  that  the  house  turned 
its  back  on  them."  This  road  is  now  the 
main  county  thoroughfare  through  the  Santa 
Clara  Valley,  in  which  is  located  Camulos 

The  winery,  where  the  finest  of  vintages  were 
pressed  and  the  juice  aged  to  a  perfect  nectar, 
still  stands,  though  now  but  a  storehouse  for 
abandoned  casks  and  ranch  implements.  And 
there,  under  a  cottonwood  tree,  is  the  same 
mortero  used  in  making  olive  oil  in  the  days 
long  gone  by. 

Less  than  a  hundred  feet  from  the  chapel, 
and  in  line  with  the  picket  fence  in  its  rear,  is 
an  oak  frame  from  which,  at  the  time  of  Mrs. 
Jackson's  visit,  hung  three  Mission  bells.  They 
were  brought  from  Spain,  and  had  done  long 
service  in  one  of  the  old  Franciscan  Missions 
in  California.  These  bells  were  swung  in  the 
shape  of  a  triangle.  The  top  one  was  used  to 
call  to  meals,  the  largest  to  summon  those  on 
the  ranch  to  chapel,  and  the  third  to  call  the 
children  to  school.  The  belfry  frame,  with  two 
of  the  bells,  remains  undisturbed,  evidencing 
the  old  days  on  this  splendid  hacienda.  The 
missing  bell  was  taken  away  some  time  ago  by 
one  of  the  daughters  of  Senora  del  Valle,  Mrs. 

Josefa  Forster,  and  placed  in  the  chapel  erected 



at  her  residence  in  Los  Angeles,  where  it  does 
appropriate  service  to  this  day. 

There  is  also  still  standing  the  large  white 
cross  just  within  the  picket  fence  near  the 

Although  not  of  sufficient  size  at  the  time 
of  Mrs.  Jackson's  visit  to  attract  attention,  there 
is  now,  to  the  west  of  the  house  about  one 
hundred  feet,  the  largest  English  walnut  tree 
known.  Its  trunk  measures  six  feet  in  di- 
ameter, and  its  branches  extend  fifty-two  feet 
from  the  body  of  the  tree  in  every  direction. 
Beneath  its  ample  shade  are  a  number  of  chairs 
cut  from  the  trunks  of  big  orange  trees,  in 
which  one  may  comfortably  recline  on  the 
hottest  day. 

Only  a  few  minor  changes  have  taken  place 
since  Mrs.  Jackson's  visit.  The  chief  industry 
is  no  longer  the  rearing  of  sheep.  The  sweep- 
ing acres  are  in  a  high  state  of  cultivation. 
Fruit-pickers  have  superseded  sheep-shearers. 
Semi-tropical  fruits  and  grain  constitute  the 
principal  crops. 

The  almond  orchard  has  given  way  to 
oranges.  The  sheep-shearing  sheds  and  cor- 
rals are  no  more.  Large  barns,  stables  and 
pens  have  supplanted  the  old  corrals  and  tule- 
covered  sheds. 



"The  second  willow  copse,  which  lay  per- 
haps a  quarter  of  a  mile  west  of  the  first/' 
where  Ramona  met  Alessandro  on  his  return 
from  Temecula  the  night  they  stole  away  from 
the  Sefipra  Moreno's,  is  gone,  washed  away 
by  a  flood  in  the  Santa  Clara  River;  and  the 
garden  of  flowers  in  front  of  the  house  is  now 
a  part  of  the  orange  grove  "  between  the  ve- 
randa and  the  river  meadows." 

Camulos  ranch  is  still  owned  by  the  del 
Valle  family.  On  the  day  of  my  visit  there, 
July  2,  1913,  I  was  cordially  received  by  Don 
Ulpiano  del  Valle,  one  of  the  sons,  who  is  in 
active  charge  of  the  ranch  and  resides  there. 
Mr.  Charles  H.  Cram  and  his  wife,  who  was 
Miss  Ysabel  del  Valle,  a  daughter  of  Dona 
Ysabel  del  Valle,  were  visiting  the  ranch  on 
that  day. 

Though  I  have  many  times  passed  through 
Camulos  on  the  train,  I  had  never  before 
stopped  there.  Mr.  Cram  spent  the  day  with 
me,  and  was  especially  courteous  and  obviously 
pleased  in  pointing  out  many  features  described 
or  named  in  "  Ramona,"  explaining  in  detail 
the  changes  wrought. 

Upon  the  occasion  of  his  first  visit  to  Camu- 
los, Christmas  time,  twenty-five  years  previ- 
ous, Mr.  Cram  said  there  were  seventy-two 



guests  present.  Of  the  hospitality  of  the  ranch 
Mrs.  Jackson  wrote:  "  Nobody  ever  knew  ex- 
actly how  many  women  were  in  the  kitchen, 
or  how  many  men  in  the  fields.  There  were 
always  women  cousins,  or  brothers'  wives  or 
widows  or  daughters,  who  had  come  to  stay, 
or  men  cousins,  or  sisters'  husbands  or  sons, 
who  were  stopping  on  their  way  up  or  down 
the  valley.  When  it  came  to  the  pay-roll, 
Sefior  Felipe  knew  to  whom  he  paid  wages ;  but 
who  were  fed  and  lodged  under  his  roof,  that 
was  quite  another  thing.  It  could  not  enter 
into  the  head  of  a  Mexican  gentleman  to  make 
either  count  or  account  of  that.  It  would  be 
a  disgraceful,  niggardly  thought.  ...  In  the 
General's  day  it  had  been  a  free-handed  boast 
of  his  that  never  less  than  fifty  persons,  men, 
women  and  children,  were  fed  within  his  gates 
each  day;  how  many  more,  he  did  not  care  nor 
know.  .  .  .  Hardly  a  day  passed  that  the 
Sefiora  had  not  visitors.  She  was  still  a  per- 
son of  note;  her  house  the  natural  resting 
place  for  all  who  journeyed  through  the  valley." 
I  sat  on  the  court  veranda  during  the  prepa- 
ration of  the  noon  meal,  to  which  I  was  invited 
with  cultured  and  gracious  insistence.  The 
feelings  which  obsessed  me  were  indescribably 
intense.  I  knew  the  name  and  life  of  every 



character  mentioned  in  the  "  Ramona "  story, 
and  they  lived  again  in  the  dreamy  fancy  that 
possessed  me.  There  were  little  ones,  some 
the  grandchildren  of  Sefiora  del  Valle,  playing 
about  the  kitchen,  replica  of  the  scene  witnessed 
by  Mrs.  Jackson  and  which  inspired  the  sen- 
tence :  "  The  troop  of  youngsters  which  still 
swarmed  around  the  kitchen  quarters  of  Sefiora 
Moreno's  house,  almost  as  numerous  and  inex- 
plicable as  in  the  grand  old  days  of  the  Gen- 
eral's time."  I  saw  the  servants  carrying  from 
the  kitchen  to  the  dining-room,  "  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  court-yard,"  dishes  of  steaming  food; 
and  on  entering  the  dining-room  the  generous 
table  recalled  Mrs.  Jackson's  description  of  a 
meal  at  Camulos  ranch:  "  A  great  dish  of  spiced 
beef  and  cabbage  in  the  center  of  the  table;  a 
tureen  of  thick  soup,  with  forcemeat  balls  and 
red  peppers  in  it;  two  red  earthen  platters 
heaped,  one  with  boiled  rice  and  onions,  the 
other  with  the  delicious  frijoles  (beans)  so 
dear  to  all  Mexican  hearts;  cut-glass  dishes 
filled  with  hot  stewed  pears,  or  preserved 
quinces,  or  grape  jelly." 

I  stood  on  every  spot  of  Camulos  ranch  men- 
tioned in  "  Ramona."  I  climbed  the  hill  to  the 
north  and  reverently  bowed  before  one  of  the 
Senora's  crosses,  and,  though  a  "  heretic,"  real- 



izcd  that  I  "was  on  the  estate  of  a  good 
Catholic."  In  fancy  I  saw  Juan  Canito,  the 
head  shepherd,  again  in  life,  on  "  the  sunny 
veranda  of  the  south  side  of  the  kitchen  wing 
of  the  house,"  sitting  "  on  the  low  bench,  his 
head  leaning  back  against  the  whitewashed 
wall,  his  long  legs  stretched  out  nearly  across 
the  whole  width  of  the  veranda,  his  pipe  firmly 
wedged  in  the  extreme  left  corner  of  his  mouth, 
his  hands  in  his  pockets — the  picture  of  placid 
content."  Again  there  were  the  Indian  sheep- 
shearers,  "  forms,  dusky  black  against  the  fiery 
western  sky,  coming  down  the  valley."  Under 
the  identical  willow  tree  described  in  the  story 
I  could  see  Ramona,  "  her  hair  in  disorder,  her 
sleeves  pinned  loosely  on  her  shoulders,  her 
whole  face  aglow  with  the  earnestness  of  her 
task,"  bending  "low  over  the  stones,  rinsing 
the  altar  cloth  up  and  down  in  the  water, 
anxiously  scanning  it,  then  plunging  it  in 

And  how  thrilling  it  was  to  complete  the 
picture!  "It  was  the  band  of  Indian  sheep- 
shearers.  They  turned  to  the  left,  and  went 
toward  the  sheep  sheds  and  booths.  But  there 
was  one  of  them  that  Ramona  did  not  see.  He 
had  been  standing  for  some  minutes  concealed 

behind  a  large  willow  tree  a  few  rods  from  the 




U>  3 

3    W 

c    >d 
o*   > 


(i)  North  side  of  kitchen  and  shepherd  dogs.  Camulos,  1913. 
44  The  dogs,  the  poultry,  all  loved  the  sight  of  Ramona."  "  Ra- 
mona."  (2)  The  public  road  behind  Camulos  dwelling,  as  it 
appeared  1913.  "Whenever  she  saw  passing  the  place  wagons 
or  carriages  belonging  to  the  hated  Americans,  it  gave  her  a 
distinct  thrill  of  pleasure  to  think  that  the  house  turned  its  back 
on  them."  "  Ramona." 


place  where  Ramona  was  kneeling.  It  was 
Alessandro,  son  of  Pablo  Assis,  captain  of  the 
sheep-shearing  band.  Walking  slowly  along  in 
advance  of  his  men,  he  had  felt  a  light,  as  from 
a  mirror  held  in  the  sun,  smite  his  eyes.  It 
was  the  red  sunbeam  on  the  glittering  water 
where  Ramona  knelt.  In  the  same  second  he 
saw  Ramona.  He  halted,  as  wild  creatures  of 
the  forest  halt  at  a  sound,  gazed,  walked 
abruptly  away  from  his  men,  who  kept  on,  not 
noticing  his  disappearance.  Cautiously  he 
moved  a  few  steps  nearer,  into  the  shelter  of 
the  gnarled  old  willow,  from  behind  which  he 
could  gaze  unperceived  on  the  beautiful  vision 
— for  so  it  seemed  to  him." 

I  could  see  Alessandro  and  Ramona  in  the 
darkness  of  the  night  in  which  they  went  out 
into  a  homeless  world,  with  love  as  their  only 
hope  and  courage,  "  under  the  willows — the 
same  copse  where  he  first  halted  at  his  first 
sight  of  Ramona";  could  hear  his  soft  Indian 
voice  telling  her  he  thought  of  her  as  "  Majel," 
and  saying  to  her,  "  it  is  the  name  of  the  bird 
you  are  like — the  wood-dove — in  the  Luiseno 
tongue.  .  .  .  It  is  by  that  name  I  have  often 
thought  of  you  since  the  night  I  watched  all 
night  for  you,  after  you  kissed  me,  and  two 
wood-doves  were  calling  and  answering  each 



other  in  the  dark;  .  .  .  and  the  wood-dove  is 
true  to  its  mate  always." 

There  was  Marda,  the  old  cook,  again  offi- 
ciating in  the  kitchen ;  Margarita,  "  the  young- 
est and  prettiest  of  the  housemaids,"  agitated 
and  sobbing  because,  through  her  negligence, 
the  altar  cloth  had  blown  into  the  artichoke 
patch  and  been  torn  by  Capitan,  the  shepherd 
dog;  Juanita,  the  eldest  of  the  house  serv- 
ants, silly,  "  good  for  nothing  except  to  shell 

And  there  again  was  the  Senora  Moreno, 
"  so  quiet,  so  reserved,  so  gentle  an  exterior 
never  was  known  to  veil  such  an  imperious  and 
passionate  nature,  brimful  of  storm,  always 
passing  through  stress;  never  thwarted,  except 
at  peril  of  those  who  did  it;  adored  and  hated 
by  turn,  and  each  at  the  hottest.  A  tremendous 
force  wherever  she  appeared." 

It  was  not  difficult  to  picture  the  Senora 
bending  over  Felipe  as  he  lay  ill  with  fever  in 
the  raw-hide  bed  made  by  Alessandro,  on  the 
raised  part  of  the  south  veranda,  from  which 
stairs  lead  to  the  lower  portion.  I  sat  on  these 
steps,  and  fancied  I  could  see  Alessandro  as 
he  played  his  violin  to  soothe  the  suffering 
Felipe,  his  music  at  all  times  sad  and  plaintive 
because  of  his  love  for  Ramona. 



In  the  valley  in  which  Camulos  ranch  is  lo- 
cated I  have  seen  the  wild  mustard  growing 
just  as  described  in  "  Ramona " — "  in  the 
branches  of  which  the  birds  of  the  air  may 
rest.  .  .  .  With  a  clear  blue  sky  behind  it 
...  it  looks  like  a  golden  snow  storm."  It 
is  a  beautiful  picture  drawn  by  Mrs.  Jackson 
of  the  meeting  of  Father  Salvierderra  and 
Ramona  in  the  mustard. 

Father  Salvierderra!  His  is  the  strong, 
towering,  grand  character  of  "Ramona"!  I 
stood  in  the  room  in  the  southeast  corner  of 
the  ranch  dwelling  always  reserved  for  this 
saintly  man.  I  felt  I  was  on  a  hallowed  spot. 
"  It  had  a  window  to  the  south  and  one  to  the 
east.  When  the  first  glow  of  dawn  came  in 
the  sky,  this  eastern  window  was  lit  up  as  by 
a  fire.  The  Father  was  always  on  watch  for 
it,  having  usually  been  at  prayer  for  hours.  As 
the  first  ray  reached  the  window  he  would 
throw  the  casement  wide  open,  and  standing 
there  with  bared  head,  strike  up  the  melody  of 
the  sunrise  hymn  sung  in  all  devout  Mexican 

From  this  room  I  went  to  the  little  chapel, 
with  its  white  walls,  set  in  the  orange  grove. 
The  night  of  the  angered  scene  between  Senora 
Moreno  and  Ramona,  when  the  Senora  discov- 



ercd  Ramona  in  Alessandro's  arms  at  the  wil- 
lows which  shade  the  washing  stones  at  the 
brook,  Alessandro  "  hid  behind  the  geranium 
clump  at  the  chapel  door  .  .  .  watching  Ra- 
mona's  window,  .  .  .  racked  by  his  emotions; 
.  .  .  Ramona  loved  him;  she  had  told  him  so." 

Passing  through  the  arched  approach,  the 
door  of  the  chapel  was  opened.  Silently  I 
entered.  A  taper  was  burning.  There  was  the 
altar,  still  "  surrounded  by  a  really  imposing 
row  of  holy  and  apostolic  figures."  There  was 
the  same  torn  altar  cloth,  so  deftly  repaired 
by  Ramona  that  the  rent  in  it  might 
not  be  noticed;  but  it  did  not  escape  the 
keen  and  observing  eyes  of  Helen  Hunt 

What  thoughts  seized  me!  How  vividly  real 
seemed  all  that  is  in  the  "  Ramona  "  story  con- 
cerning this  sacred  place!  I  could  see  "the 
chapel  full  of  kneeling  men  and  women;  those 
who  could  not  find  room  inside  kneeling  on 
the  garden  walks;  Father  Salvierderra,  in  gor- 
geous vestments,  coming,  at  close  of  the  serv- 
ices, slowly  down  the  aisle,  the  close-packed 
rows  of  worshipers  parting  to  right  and  left  to 
let  him  through,  all  looking  up  eagerly  for  his 
blessing,  women  giving  him  offerings  of  fruit 




w      > 

a  I 


i.  w 





(i)  Part  of  the  veranda  on  inner  court,  Camulos,  1913.     (2) 
Under  the  largest  English  walnut  tree  known,  Camulos,  1913. 


or  flowers,  and  holding  up  their  babies,  that  he 
might  lay  his  hands  on  their  heads." 

Father  Salvierderra !  Consecrated  to  the 
tenets  and  purposes  of  the  Catholic  Church; 
trudging  over  mountain  and  through  valley 
from  his  home,  the  Santa  Barbara  Mission,  to 
cheer  and  bless  the  humble  and  the  high  alike. 
"  To  wear  a  shoe  in  place  of  a  sandal,  to  take 
money  in  a  purse  for  a  journey,  above  all  to  lay 
aside  the  gray  gown  and  cowl  for  any  sort  of 
secular  garment,  seemed  to  him  wicked.  To 
own  comfortable  clothes  while  there  were  others 
suffering  for  want  of  them — and  there  were 
always  such — seemed  to  him  a  sin  for  which 
one  might  not  undeservedly  be  smitten  with 
sudden  and  terrible  punishment.  In  vain  the 
Brothers  again  and  again  supplied  him  with  a 
warm  cloak;  he  gave  it  away  to  the  first  beg- 
gar he  met."  "  What  can  I  do  to  help  you?  " 
was  the  ever-ready  question  that  revealed  his 
unselfish  and  sympathetic  nature. 

And  there  in  this  chapel,  a  holy  spot  in  the 
wilderness,  I  stood  with  bowed  head  and  solemn 
thought,  touched  by  the  memory  and  spirit  of 
this  grand,  this  noble  Franciscan ;  "  so  revered 
and  loved  by  all  who  had  come  under  his  in- 
fluence, that  they  would  wait  long  months  with- 
out the  offices  of  the  church,  rather  than  con- 


fcss  their  sins  or  confide  their  perplexities  to 
anyone  else."  I  was  impelled  to  cry  out,  as 
though  in  his  living  presence,  as  did  Agrippa  to 
Paul,  "Almost  thou  persuadest  me  to  be  a 



NOW  known  as  "  The  Doge  of  Venice," 
his  present  abode,  the  beautiful  and 
popular  seaside  resort  near  Los  Angeles 
which  he  founded,  Mr.  Abbot  Kinney  is  en- 
joying the  fruits  of  a  long  and  successful  life. 

He  came  to  California  in  1873,  and  was  a 
guest  at  the  famous  old  Kimball  Mansion  on 
New  High  Street,  Los  Angeles,  when  Mrs. 
Jackson  stopped  there  on  her  first  visit  to  the 

The  vivacity,  wit,  culture  and  genius  of  the 
woman  attracted  Mr.  Kinney.  He  was  a  friend 
to  the  Mission  Indians,  was  in  deep  sympathy 
with  the  purpose  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  trip  to  Cali- 
fornia, and  soon  a  close  friendship  was  created 
between  them,  which  resulted  in  Mr.  Kinney 
being  selected  by  Mrs.  Jackson  as  co-commis- 
sioner to  aid  in  her  struggling  effort  to  protect 
the  various  Indian  tribes  in  Southern  California. 

Mrs.  Jackson's  selection  of  Mr.  Kinney  to 
accompany  and  aid  her  was  little  less  than  an 



inspiration.  He  was  familiar  with  the  ground 
to  be  covered,  had  some  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
ject to  be  considered,  and  was  not  wholly  a 
stranger  to  the  Spanish  language  or  the  mixed 
dialects  of  the  various  tribes  of  Indians  whose 
villages  were  to  be  visited.  Moreover,  he  had 
come  to  share  in  the  earnestness  and  enthusiasm 
with  which  the  noble  woman  entered  upon  her 
mission.  He  recognized  her  as  the  leading 
spirit  in  the  humanitarian  movement,  and  ad- 
dressed her  as  "  General."  She,  in  turn,  re- 
garded him  as  her  "  Comrade,"  and  so  addressed 
him,  later,  in  her  correspondence,  shortening 
the  appellation  to  "  Co." 

In  their  wanderings  over  the  San  Jacinto 
Mountains  it  became  necessary  to  visit  locali- 
ties that  could  not  be  reached  in  any  sort  of 
vehicle.  Mr.  Kinney  naturally  relieved  Mrs. 
Jackson  in  so  far  as  he  could  from  these  arduous 
tasks.  In  doing  so  he  met  with  some  incidents 
not  witnessed  by  his  chief.  Some  of  these 
were  related  by  Mr.  Kinney  to  the  authors  of 
this  volume.  One  instance  is  of  peculiar  hu- 
man interest.  A  man  named  Fayne  had 
wrongfully  dispossessed  an  Indian  of  his  home, 
and  was  holding  possession  when  Mr.  Kinney 
was  in  the  neighborhood.  It  was  a  singularly 
aggravating  outrage,  and  Commissioner  Kin- 



Co-commissioner  and  intimate  friend  of  Helen  Hunt  Jackson, 
who  journeyed  with  her  through  Southern  California,  and  aided 
in  her  work  for  the  Mission  Indians. 




(/3    •£• 

O)  _. 

3  *'a 

o  gs 






,*J    «« 


«*"  o 

v.  "3 


ney  determined  to  dispossess  him  while  on  the 
ground,  if  possible,  and  to  that  extent  right  the 

As  he  approached  the  house  on  horseback  he 
observed  a  man  leaning  over  the  front  gate 
with  a  rifle  in  his  hand  and  a  set  look  of  wicked 
determination  in  his  eyes.  Mr.  Kinney  affected 
not  to  observe  the  bellicose  attitude  of  the  vil- 
lain, and  although  the  weapon  was  pointed  at 
him,  rode  directly  up  to  the  fence. 

"  Well,"  said  Fayne,  in  a  brutal  tone  of  voice, 
"  what  do  you  want  here?  " 

"I  am  an  agent  of  the  Government,"  an- 
swered Mr.  Kinney,  "and  I've  come  to  in- 
vestigate your  title  to  this  property.  I've  heard 
the  Indian's  story,  and  now  I've  come  to  hear 
what  you  have  to  say." 

"  Oh,  well,  that's  different.  If  you  want  to 
be  decent  about  the  matter  and  do  the  right 
thing,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  what  my 
claim  is." 

With  this  Fayne  lowered  his  rifle  and  in- 
vited Mr.  Kinney  into  the  house.  His  story 
was  long  and  rambling,  but  wholly  without 
merit,  and  Mr.  Kinney  and  Mrs.  Jackson,  be- 
fore leaving  the  locality,  had  the  satisfaction  of 
restoring  the  little  ranch  to  its  rightful  owner, 


the  Indian  who  had  lived  on  it  all  his  life,  as 
had  his  father  before  him. 

Upon  another  occasion  it  became  necessary 
for  Mr.  Kinney  to  go  on  foot  to  a  little  ranch 
on  the  edge  of  the  desert,  where  he  found  the 
owner,  an  aged  Indian,  in  great  distress  over 
the  complete  destruction  of  his  crop— sole  re- 
liance for  the  sustenance  of  himself  and  family 
until  another  could  be  grown — by  a  white  man 
named  Lugo,  who  had  driven  a  herd  of  cattle 
and  a  band  of  sheep  over  it,  breaking  down  the 
fences  on  either  side,  and  leaving  not  a  vestige 
of  vegetation  upon  the  place.  The  act  was  one 
of  pure  malevolence,  since  there  was  an  abun- 
dance of  room  on  either  side  of  the  ranch  to 
have  driven  his  stock  without  damage  to  any- 

Mr.  Kinney  burned  with  indignation  when 
he  viewed  the  wreck  and  heard  the  pitiful 
story  from  the  lips  of  the  sufferer.  Seeking 
out  the  perpetrator  he  introduced  himself  as  an 
agent  of  the  Government,  told  him  he  had  ap- 
praised the  damage,  and  warned  him  that,  un- 
less he  should  appear  at  a  certain  place  in  San 
Diego  within  ten  days  and  deposit  the  sum 
named  for  the  benefit  of  the  outraged  Indian, 
he  would  send  an  officer  after  him.  There  was 
no  parleying,  nor  was  there  any  subsequent 


default.  Mr.  Kinney  and  Mrs.  Jackson  were 
able  to  hand  the  money  over  to  the  grateful 
Indian  a  few  weeks  later. 

Particularly  interesting  was  Mr.  Kinney's 
relation  of  the  visit  of  Mrs.  Jackson  to  Temec- 
ula.  He  was  with  her  on  that  momentous 
occasion.  The  scenes  of  desolation,  mute  but 
irrefutable  evidence  of  the  outrage  of  the  whites 
upon  the  Indians,  seemed  to  wrack  the  heart 
and  mind  of  Mrs.  Jackson.  The  interview  be- 
tween her  and  Mrs.  Wolfe,  Mrs.  Hartsel  of 
"  Ramona,"  was  fervent  and  dramatic.  Mrs. 
Wolfe  had  witnessed  the  ejectment  of  the 
Indians  from  Temecula.  Her  sympathies  were 
with  the  maltreated  red  men,  and  naturally  she 
elicited  the  confidence  and  admiration  of  Mrs. 

At  the  Temecula  graveyard  Mrs.  Jackson  ob- 
served an  Indian  woman  weeping  over  the 
grave  of  her  husband.  The  incident  gave  birth 
to  the  character  of  Carmena  in  "  Ramona." 
"As  they  entered  the  enclosure  a  dark  figure 
arose  from  one  of  the  graves.  ...  It  was 
Carmena.  The  poor  creature,  nearly  crazed 
with  grief,  was  spending  her  days  by  her  baby's 
grave  in  Pachanga,  and  her  nights  by  her  hus- 
band's in  Temecula.  She  dared  not  come  to 



Tcmccula  by  day,  for  the  Americans  were 
there,  and  she  feared  them." 

When  in  a  reminiscent  mood  Mr.  Kinney 
relates  many  interesting  incidents  associated 
with  the  historical  journey  over  the  San  Jacinto 
Mountains,  originally  suggested  to  Mrs.  Jack- 
son by  the  Coronels,  and  which  gave  birth  to 
the  great  American  romance,  "  Ramona."  He 
asserts  that  nearly  if  not  quite  all  of  the  char- 
acters and  incidents  in  "  Ramona  "  were  sug- 
gested by  persons  seen  and  episodes  encoun- 
tered during  the  journey  and  Mrs.  Jackson's 
visit  to  Camulos  ranch,  and  that  the  author's 
description  of  places,  relation  of  incidents  and 
portrayal  of  characters  are  astonishingly  cor- 
rect and  faithful. 

While  Mr.  Kinney,  with  his  accustomed 
courtesy,  talked  willingly  and  at  length  with 
the  authors  concerning  Mrs.  Jackson  and  "  Ra- 
mona," to  the  request  that  he  contribute  some- 
thing to  this  volume  over  his  own  signature 
he  answered :  "  I  could  not  write  anything  on 
the  subject  that  would  not  be  either  dull  or 
colorless,  or  violate  my  views  on  the  sacred 
character  of  the  relations  of  personal  friend- 

The  close  and  intimate  friendship  existing 
between  Mrs.  Jackson  and  Mr.  Kinney  is  evi- 




denced  by  the  correspondence  between  them. 
Portions  of  some  of  the  letters  of  the  author 
of  "Ramona"  to  Mr.  Kinney  are  here  given: 

New  York,  January  17,  1884. 
Dear  Co.: 

•          •••••• 

When  I  arrived  here  on  Nov.  20  and  found 
that  you  had  left  on  November  19,  "  a  madder 
man  than  Mr.  Mears  you  would  not  wish  to 
see." — You  surely  could  not  have  got  my  note 
saying  I  would  start  on  the  i6th — I  took  cold 
on  the  journey.  .  .  . 

Feby.  2.  Whether  from  the  horrible  weather 
or  from  overwork  I  don't  know,  I  collapsed 
for  a  week,  and  had  an  ugly  sore  throat  and 
did  no  work.  Now  I  am  all  right  again  and 
back  at  my  table,  but  shall  go  slower.  I  am 
leading  a  life  as  quiet  as  if  I  were  at  Mrs. 
Kimball's — I  go  nowhere — am  never  out  after 
5  P.M.  I  am  resolved  to  run  no  risks  what- 
ever till  after  I  get  this  story  done.  I  hope  it 
is  good.  It  is  over  one-third  done.  Am  pretty 
sure  the  ist  of  March  will  see  it  done.  Then 
I  will  play. 

The  weather  has  been  horrible — snow  after 
snow;  raw  and  cloudy  days, — I  have  sighed 
for  Southern  California. 



But  in  the  house  I  have  been  comfortable — 
have  not  once  seen  the  mercury  below  60  in 
my  rooms.  The  apartment  is  sunny  and  light 
— 6th  floor — east  windows — all  my  "traps," 
as  Mr.  Jackson  calls  them,  came  in  well,  and  the 
room  looks  as  if  I  had  lived  in  it  all  my  life. 

Now,  for  yourself — What  have  you  done? 
How  are  you  running  your  home? — Who  is  at 
the  Villa?  Is  Mrs.  Carr  well?  My  regards  to 
her.  Don't  you  wish  you  had  carried  home  a 
wife?  I  am  exceedingly  disappointed  that  you 

Miss  Sheriff  writes  me  that  a  suit  is  brought 
for  the  ejectment  of  the  Saboba  Indians.  Let 
me  know  if  you  have  heard  of  it — what  Brun- 
son  &  Wells  say.  I  wrote  to  Wells  a  long 
time  ago  asking  for  information  about  the  suit 
by  which  the  Temecula  Indians  were  ejected — 
but  he  has  not  replied. 

What  do  you  hear  of  the  new  agent? 

I  got  Miss  Sheriff's  salary  restored  to  old 

I  have  just  sent  a  list  of  200  names  to  Com. 
Price  to  mail  our  report  to.  Of  course  you 
had  copies.  I  feel  well  satisfied  with  it.  Do 
not  you?  I  wish  they'd  send  us  again  some- 
where. They  never  will.  I've  had  my  last 
trip  as  a  "  Junketing  Female  Commissioner." 


Do  write  soon; — and  answer  all  my  ques- 
tions— and  don't  wait  for  me  to  reply,  but 
write  again.  I  am  writing  from  1,000  to  2,000 
words  a  day  on  the  story  and  letters  are  im- 
possible, except  to  Mr.  Jackson.  Whether  I 
write  or  not  you  know  I  am  always  the  same 
affectionate  old  General. 

Yours  ever, 

H.  J. 

The  "  story  "  to  which  reference  is  made  was 
"  Ramona,"  which  was  being  written  at  the 
date  of  the  letter. 

New  York,  February  2oth,  1884. 
Dear  Co.: 

Your  first  letter  made  me  wretched.  If  we 
had  "been  and  gone"  and  got  a  rascally  firm 
set  over  those  Indian  matters  I  thought  we 
might  better  never  have  been  born. 

But  your  second  reassures  me. 

I  sent  you  one  of  the  reports.  You  can  get 
all  you  want,  I  think,  by  writing  to  Commis- 
sioner Price.  I  sent  him  a  long  list  of  names 
to  mail  it  to.  They  said  I  could  have  all  I 
wanted.  Of  course  you  can  too.  There  is  a 
bill  of  some  sort,  prepared  and  before  Congress. 
I  have  written  to  Teller  asking  for  it,  or  sum 
and  substance.  He  does  not  reply.  None  of 



them  care  for  anything  now,  except  the  elec- 
tion. .    .    . 

I  am  working  away  at  the  story  (Ramona) 
— twenty  chapters  done.  I'd  like  to  consult 
you.  Do  you  think  it  will  do  any  harm  to  de- 
part from  the  chronological  sequence  of  events 
in  my  story? 

For  dramatic  purposes  I  have  put  the  Temec- 
ula  ejectment  before  the  first  troubles  in  San 

Will  anybody  be  idiot  enough  to  make  a  point 
of  that?  I  am  not  writing  history.  I  hope  the 
story  is  good. 

I  wish  you  could  see  my  rooms.  What  with 
Indian  baskets,  the  things  from  Marsh's,  and 
antique  rugs,  they  are  really  quite  charming, 
luckily  for  me  who  have  been  shut  up  in  them 
by  the  solid  week. 

Such  weather  was  never  seen.  There  are 
no  words — proper  ones — suitable  to  describe  it. 
I  sigh  for  San  Gabriel  sunshine. 

I  hope  you  are  well  and  jolly.  I'm  awfully 
sorry  you  are  not  married.  Good  night.  Al- 
ways, Affectionately  yours, 


Regards  to  Mrs.  Crank,  Mrs.  C ,  etc.    I 

don't  wonder  the  latter  does  not  succeed  as 

landlady.     I'd  as  soon  board  with  a  cyclone. 



(i)  Fage  of  old  record  at  San  Gabriel  Mission,  written  by 
Father  Junipero  Serra  and  containing  his  signature.  (2)  One 
of  the  missing  bells  from  San  Gabriel  Mission,  taken  by  the 
late  E.  J.  ("  Lucky  ")  Baldwin,  as  hung  on  his  Santa  Anita  ranch. 


The  following  letter  was  written  after  the 
completion  of  "  Ramona,"  and  Mrs.  Jackson 
had  fallen  down  the  stairs  in  her  home  at  Colo- 
rado Springs  and  fractured  her  leg. 

Colorado  Springs, 

September  28th,  1884. 
Dear  Co.: 

•  .  •(  '•!  •  '•  • 

I  am  thinking  of  coming  to  So.  California 
as  soon  as  I  can  hobble.  I  must  fly  from  here 
before  November,  but  I  do  not  feel  quite  up 
to  shutting  myself  in  for  the  winter  as  I  must 
in  New  York.  So  I  propose  to  run  across  to 
your  snug  seashore — for  two  or  three  months 
of  sunshine  and  outdoors — before  going  to  New 
York.  Do  you  not  think  that  wise? 

I  wrote  to  Mrs.  W in  San  Diego — the 

only  place  I  know  in  all  California  where  there 
was  real  comfort.  Also  I  like  the  San  Diego 
climate  best.  But  I  learned  to  my  great  dis- 
appointment that  she  had  gone  to  Los  Angeles. 
The  N's  urge  my  coming  to  a  new  hotel  in 
San  Diego — but  I  have  a  mortal  dread  of  Cali- 
fornia hotels.  Do  you  know  anything  of  it? — 
And  do  you  know  where  Mrs.  W's  house  in 
Los  Angeles  is?  If  it  is  on  high  ground?  .  .  . 

...  I  shall  bring  my  Effie  with  me — too 


helpless  yet  to  travel  alone.  Goodness!  What 
martyrdom  crutches  are!  While  I  was  station- 
ary in  bed  it  was  fun  in  comparison  with  this. 
But  I  am  a  sinner  to  grumble.  I  shall  walk 
with  one  crutch  and  one  cane,  next  week,  the 
doctor  thinks,  and  that  is  great  luck  for  such 
a  bad  compound  fracture  as  mine;  and  at  my 
age.  My  weight  also  is  a  sad  hindrance.  If 
I  weighed  only  125  or  so  they  say  I  could 
walk  with  a  cane  now.  Ultimately — they  insist 
— my  leg  will  be  as  good  as  ever,  and  no  lame- 
ness. I  shall  believe  it  when  I  see  it!  .  .  . 

I  had  a  letter  from  Mrs.  C the  other  day. 

Strange,  that  disorderly  chaotic  woman  writes 
a  precise,  methodical  hand,  clear  as  type,  char- 
acterless in  its  precision;  and  I,  who  am  a 
martinet  of  ardent  system,  write — well — as  you 
see!  What  nonsense  to  say  handwriting  shows 

I  have  ordered  a  copy  of  "  The  Hunter  Cats 
of  Connorloa"  sent  to  you.  You  will  laugh 
to  see  yourself  saddled  with  an  orphan  niece 
and  nephew.  I  hope  you  won't  dislike  the 
story.  I  propose  in  the  next  to  make  you 
travel  all  through  Southern  California  with 
"  Susy  and  Rea " — and  tell  the  Indian  story 

over  again.  I  only  hope  that  scalawag  C , 

of  Los  Angeles,  will  come  across  the  story, 



and  see  himself  set  forth  in  it.  He  will  recog- 
nize the  story  of  Fernando,  the  old  Indian  he 
turned  out  at  San  Gabriel. 

As  you  recollect  the  situation  of  lands  at 
Saboba  was  there  good  land  enough  in  that 
neighborhood  for  those  Indians  to  get  homes? 
The  Indian  appropriation  bill  passed  in  July 
has  a  clause  enabling  Indians  to  take  land  under 
homestead  laws,  with  no  fees. 

What  are  Brunson  and  Wells  doing?  Any- 
thing? What  is  the  state  of  the  Saboba  mat- 
ter? But  I  suppose  you  can  think  of  nothing 
save  politics  till  next  Dec. 

Write  soon.  I  want  to  know  about  Mrs. 
W's  house — if  it  is  high,  sunny,  airy,  etc. 

Yours  always, 


Having  passed  several  months  in  Los  An- 
geles, Mrs.  Jackson  went  to  San  Francisco 
early  in  1885,  where  she  died  a  few  months 

San  Francisco,  April  ist,  1885. 
Dear  Co.: 

I  don't  wonder  you  thought  so.  Anybody 
well  enough  to  journey  to  S.  F.  wouldn't  seem 

to  be  in  such  bad  case.    But  it  was  true — I 



came  up  here  on  my  last  shred  of  nerve  force, 
and  collapsed  at  once.  I  have  had  a  terrible 
poisoning.  It  will  be  seven  weeks  next  Satur- 
day since  there  has  been  any  proper  action 
of  either  stomach  or  bowels, — simply  six  weeks 
of  starvation,  that  is  all,  and  the  flesh  has 
rained  off  me.  I  must  have  lost  at  least  forty 
pounds,  and  I  am  wan  and  yellow  in  the  face. 
Nothing  ever  before  so  utterly  upset  me. 
Everybody  cried  that  bade  me  good-by,  I  looked 
so  ill.  Even  Miller,  my  driver,  stood  speech- 
less, before  me  in  the  cars — with  his  eyes  full 
of  tears!  Dear  old  Mr.  Coronel  put  his  arms 
round  me  sighing:  "Excuse  me,  I  must!" 
Embraced  me  in  Spanish  fashion  with  a  half 
sob.  I  know  they  none  of  them  expected  me 
to  live — which  did  not  cheer  me  up  much.  I 
seemed  to  be  better  at  first  after  getting  here, 
but  had  a  relapse  last  week — diarrhoea  as  bad 
as  ever  and  stomach  worse.  I  am  in  bed — 
take  only  heated  milk  and  gr — and  sit  up  long 
enough  to  have  my  bed  made.  It  is  a  bad  job, 
old  fellow,  and  I  doubt  very  much  if  I  ever  pull 
out  of  it.  It's  all  right,  only  if  I  had  been 
asked  to  choose  the  one  city  of  all  I  know  in 
which  I  would  have  most  disliked  to  be  slain, 
it  would  have  been  San  Francisco. 

Thursday,    A.M.    Your    note    is    just    here. 



Sorry  you  have  to  change  cooks.  Changing 
stomachs  is  worse,  however.  Don't  grumble, 
lest  a  worse  thing  befall  you.  Give  as  much 
of  my  love  as  your  wife  will  accept,  to  her. 
I  liked  your  calling  her  the  "Young  H.  H." 
There  is  no  doubt  she  looks  as  I  did  at  twenty. 
...  I  shall  never  be  well  again,  Co.  I  know 
it  with  a  certain  knowledge.  Nobody  at  my 
age  with  my  organization  ever  really  got  over 
a  severe  blood  poisoning.  My  doctor  is  a  good 
one,  a  young  man — Dr.  Boericke,  834  Sutter 
St.  I  like  him  heartily.  He  is  clever,  enthusi- 
astic, European  taught.  All  that  homeopathy 
can  do  for  me  I  shall  have,  and  you  know  the 
absoluteness  of  my  faith  in  homeopathy. 
Good-by.  I'll  let  you  know  how  it  goes.  Don't 
give  yourself  a  moment's  worry. 

Yours  always, 


P.  S.  Can't  you  do  something  to  get  Rust 
appointed  Indian  agent?  I  have  heard  quite 
directly  that  Lamar  is  full  of  warm  sympathy 
for  the  Indians.  Do  try,  Co.,  and  accomplish 
something  for  them.  You  might,  if  you  would 
determine  to. 

Although  approaching  the  sere  and  yellow- 
leaf  period  of  his  useful  sojourn  here  below, 


Mr.  Kinney  is  still  a  very  active  man,  daily  to 
be   seen    at    his    desk    in    "  Venice    of    Amer- 


The  carriage  in  which  Mrs.  Jackson  com- 
menced her  journey  through  Southern  Cali- 
fornia was  owned  and  driven  by  Mr.  N.  H. 
Mitchell,  who  now  resides  in  Los  Angeles. 
The  start  was  made  from  Anaheim,  twenty-six 
miles  from  Los  Angeles.  The  occupants  of  the 
carriage  were  Mrs.  Jackson,  Mr.  Abbot  Kin- 
ney, Mr.  Henry  Sandham  and  Mr.  N.  H. 
Mitchell.  Mr.  Mitchell  has  contributed  this 
statement  of  his  association  with  Mrs.  Jack- 

"I  first  met  Mrs.  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  at 
Anaheim,  near  Los  Angeles,  in  April,  1883. 
She  came  there  in  company  with  Mr.  Ab- 
bot Kinney  and  Mr.  Henry  Sandham,  the 

"  Mrs.  Jackson  was  seeking  someone  who 
was  familiar  with  the  country  and  could  guide 
her  and  her  companions  through  Southern  Cali- 
fornia, and  especially  to  the  several  Indian 

"  I  understood  that  she  was  in  California  as 
a  representative  of  the  U.  S.  Interior  Depart- 
ment, especially  authorized  to  visit  the  Mis- 
sion Indians  and  report  upon  their  condition, 

MR.   N.   H.   MITCHELL, 

Owner  and  driver  of  the  carriage  in  which  Helen  Hunt  Jackson 
made  the  first  part  of  her  journey  through  Southern  California. 





and  recommend  action  to  be  taken  by  the  Gov- 
ernment in  their  behalf.  She  seemed  intensely 
interested  in  the  Indians  at  Temecula  and 
Warner's  Ranch. 

"  Our  first  stop  was  at  San  Juan  Capistrano, 
where  we  remained  two  days.  From  there  we 
visited  the  Santa  Margarita  Rancho,  where  we 
were  guests  at  the  palatial  home  of  Don  Juan 
Forster  for  two  days. 

"  Our  journey  from  place  to  place  was  at- 
tended by  many  exciting  and  interesting  inci- 
dents. Mrs.  Jackson  accepted  every  inconveni- 
ence and  hardship  without  complaint.  She 
seemed  wholly  absorbed  by  the  Indian  subject: 
to  hear,  to  see  all  concerning  them.  No  detail 
escaped  her.  She  was  ever  smiling,  good- 
natured  and  witty,  but  always  earnest  and 

"We  encountered  many  trying  conditions, 
especially  for  a  woman,  and  one  of  Mrs.  Jack- 
son's refinement.  We  often  camped  at  night. 
Pala  Mission,  on  the  San  Luis  Rey  River,  was 
reached  late  at  night,  and  there  we  were  forced 
to  camp.  We  found  an  American  there,  who 
was  trading  with  the  Indians,  and  prevailed 
upon  him  to  give  us  some  supper.  Something 
about  him  particularly  amused  and  interested 
Mr.  Sandham,  who  named  the  fellow  '  Gari- 


baldi.'  No  beds  could  be  had,  and  we  had  to 
sleep  in  a  haystack. 

"  Mrs.  Jackson  made  friends  with  all  whom 
she  met,  both  white  people  and  Indians.  She 
was  attentive,  kind  and  courteous  to  everyone. 

"I  kept  the  carriage  in  which  we  rode  until 
a  few  years  ago.  I  offered  to  give  it  to  the 
Los  Angeles  Chamber  of  Commerce,  that  it 
might  be  preserved  in  connection  with  the 
Coronel  Collection,  but  the  offer  was  refused 
on  the  ground  of  lack  of  space.  I  finally  sold 
it  to  a  carriage  dealer  in  Pasadena,  who  dis- 
sembled it  and  used  its  parts  for  various  pur- 

"I  know  of  many  of  the  incidents  of  our 
travel  to  be  the  same  as  related  in  'Ramona.' 
Mrs.  Hartsel,  whom  Mrs.  Jackson  met  at 
Temecula,  was  Mrs.  Ramona  Wolfe,  the  wife 
of  the  storekeeper  there.  Mrs.  Jackson  was 
greatly  interested  in  Mrs.  Wolfe,  and  from  her 
learned  many  things  concerning  the  Temecula 
Indians  and  their  ejectment  from  their  lands. 
Mrs.  Wolfe  was  in  sympathy  with  the  Indians, 
and,  therefore,  Mrs.  Jackson  gave  her  special 

"  Because  Mrs.  Wolfe's  name  was  Ramona, 
and  Mrs.  Jackson  seemed  so  particularly  im- 
pressed by  her,  I  have  always  thought  she  was 


the  original  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  heroine  in  '  Ra- 
mona.'  Mrs.  Wolfe  never  lived  at  Camulos 
ranch,  and  never  had,  so  far  as  I  know,  any 
of  the  experiences  related  in  the  novel  as  having 
attended  Ramona." 


THE  constant  companion  of  Helen  Hunt 
Jackson  when  in  California  on  her  In- 
dian mission  was  the  late  Mr.  Henry 
Sandham.    He  was  one  of  the  artists  of  the 
"  Century  Magazine,"  had  established  a  repu- 
tation in  his  work  and  was  selected  and  sent 
by  the  Century  Company  with  Mrs.  Jackson  on 
her  California  journey. 

Mrs.  Jackson  was  to  contribute  articles  to 
the  magazine  named,  and  Mr.  Sandham  to 
illustrate  them,  not  with  camera,  but  with 
pencil  and  brush. 

Henry  Sandham  was  born  at  Montreal, 
Canada,  in  1842.  It  has  been  said  that  north- 
ern climes  are  too  cold  to  nourish  artistic 
temperament  and  talent;  but  out  of  the  Cana- 
dian wintry  blasts  came  Mr.  Sandham,  destined 
to  rise  to  success  and  fame  in  the  world  of  art. 

The  wild  life  of  Canada  was  his  special  work, 
and  his  introduction  in  the  United  States  was 
through  the  "  Century  Magazine,"  in  which 
were  published  his  sketches  depicting  the  out- 
door life  of  his  native  land. 



Who  accompanied  Mrs.  Jackson  to  and  on  her  journeys  in  Cali- 
fornia, and  who  illustrated  her  writings  and  painted  the  "  Ra- 
mona"  pictures.  As  he  appeared  in  1883,  while  in  California. 

1  1 

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S2  1 

w   >• 



Mr.  Sandham  has  declared  that,  when  a 
youth,  every  available  minute,  night  and  day, 
he  pursued  diligently  and  earnestly  drawing, 
sketching  and  painting.  Even  the  opposition 
of  his  parents  to  an  artistic  career  did  not  dis- 
courage him. 

In  1880  he  was  selected  as  one  of  the  original 
members  of  the  Royal  Canadian  Academy, 
which  was  founded  by  H.  R.  H.,  the  Princess 
Louise.  He  then  went  to  Europe,  where,  with 
the  money  he  had  made  and  saved,  he  pursued 
his  studies.  He  soon  returned  to  America  and 
located  at  Boston,  and  it  was  while  he  was  re- 
siding there  that  he  was  commissioned  by  the 
"  Century  Magazine  "  to  accompany  Mrs.  Jack- 
son to  California.  In  later  years  he  went  to 
London,  where  he  continued  his  work,  and 
where  he  died,  June  21,  1910. 

The  Century  Company  is  entitled  to  the 
credit  for  the  coming  of  Mrs.  Jackson  to  Cali- 
fornia; she  was  its  paid  contributor.  The 
Mission  Indians  were  to  be  her  principal 
theme;  but  the  Franciscan  Missions  and  South- 
ern California  were  within  the  sphere  of  her 

The  wisdom  and  business  sagacity  of  the 
Century  Company  in  securing  the  services  of 
Mrs.  Jackson  for  the  work  resulted  in  enrich- 


ing  the  columns  of  its  magazine  with  articles 
from  Mrs.  Jackson's  pen,  the  best  known  and 
most  generally  read  being,  "  Father  Junipero 
and  His  Work,"  "The  Present  Condition  of 
the  Mission  Indians  in  Southern  California," 
and  "Echoes  in  the  City  of  Angels."  These 
beautiful  and  historical  compositions  have  been 
republished  in  two  different  forms:  "Glimpses 
of  Three  Coasts,"  and  "  Glimpses  of  California 
and  the  Missions."  The  first  two,  "Father 
Junipero  and  His  Work,"  and  "The  Present 
Condition  of  the  Mission  Indians  in  Southern 
California,"  are  a  part  of  the  reading  series  in 
the  public  schools  of  California;  credit  for 
which  is  to  be  given  to  the  thoughtfulness  and 
persistency  of  Miss  Annie  B.  Picher,  of  Pasa- 
dena, California,  who  has  done  much  to  popu- 
larize the  works  of  Mrs.  Jackson  and  honor  her 

Mrs.  Jackson's  magazine  contributions  were 
elaborately  and  realistically  illustrated  by  Mr. 
Sandham.  He  went  everywhere  with  his  prin- 
cipal. He  visited  every  Mission,  studied  Indian 
character,  and  sketched  from  life.  He  himself 
has  said  that  his  sketches  "  were  always  made 
on  the  spot,  with  Mrs.  Jackson  close  at  hand 
suggesting  emphasis  to  this  object  or  promi- 
nence to  that."  This  statement  includes  the 



drawings  which  embellish  the  "  Pasadena  Edi- 
tion" of  "Ramona";  was  indeed  uttered  in 
direct  reference  to  the  novel. 

"  Glimpses  of  Three  Coasts  "  and  "  Glimpses 
of  California  and  the  Missions"  are  valuable 
and  worthy  of  space  in  every  library  because 
of  the  illustrations  they  contain  alone. 

It  was  not  until  1900  that  Mr.  Sandham  gave 
to  the  public  the  "Ramona"  paintings  from 
which  were  taken  the  illustrations  contained  in 
the  "  Pasadena  Edition."  This  was  seventeen 
years  after  making  the  sketches  for  them  in 

The  illustrations  proper  number  fifteen,  every 
one  being  especially  pertinent  to  the  text. 
They  make  real  and  living  things  of  their  sub- 
jects. In  addition  there  are  twenty-six  deco- 
rative chapter  headings;  all  the  work  of  Mr. 

This  work  alone  places  Mr.  Sandham  in  the 
front  rank  of  the  world's  artists.  All  are  most 
beautiful  and  interesting,  but  to  the  authors 
the  most  appealing  of  these  paintings  is  the 
one  of  the  meeting  of  Ramona  and  Father  Sal- 
vierderra  in  the  wild  mustard.  The  Father 
was  expected  at  Camulos  ranch  on  his  annual 
pilgrimage,  and  Ramona  went  forth  to  greet 
him.  The  text  thus  pictures  the  scene:  "The 



wild  mustard  in  Southern  California  is  like 
that  spoken  of  in  the  New  Testament,  in  the 
branches  of  which  the  birds  of  the  air  may  rest. 
.  .  .  The  cloud  of  blossom  seems  floating  in 
the  air;  at  times  it  looks  like  golden  dust. 
With  a  clear  blue  sky  behind  it,  as  it  is  often 
seen,  it  looks  like  a  golden  snow-storm.  .  .  . 
Father  Salvierderra  soon  found  himself  in  a 
veritable  thicket.  .  .  .  Suddenly  he  heard  faint 
notes  of  singing.  He  paused, — listened.  It  was 
the  voice  of  a  woman.  .  .  .  The  notes  grew 
clearer,  though  still  low  and  sweet  as  the  twi- 
light notes  of  the  thrush.  .  .  .  Father  Salvier- 
derra stood  still  as  one  in  a  dream.  ...  In  a 
moment  more  came,  distinct  and  clear  to  his 
ear,  the  beautiful  words  of  the  second  stanza  of 
Saint  Francis'  inimitable  lyric,  'The  Canticle 
of  the  Sun.'  .  .  .  '  Ramona ! '  exclaimed  the 
Father.  .  .  .  And  as  he  spoke  her  face  came 
into  sight,  set  in  a  swaying  frame  of  the  blos- 

What  more  inspiring  subject  could  there  be 
to  the  artist?  Mr.  Sandham's  genius  poured 
into  the  picture  he  created,  and  the  scene  lives. 

No  less  dramatic,  however,  are  the  other 
paintings,  each  a  pictured  climax  in  the  sorrow- 
ful and  stirring  story  of  "  Ramona."  Every  de- 
tail of  fact  was  carefully  and  correctly  sketched 



and  colored  by  the  artist.  In  the  picture  of  the 
Senora  Moreno  reprimanding  Juan  Canito,  the 
head  shepherd,  for  denouncing  Luigo,  the  lazy 
shepherd  boy,  the  veranda  on  the  west  side 
of  the  court  at  Camulos  ranch  is  readily  recog- 
nized—even as  it  is  at  this  time.  The  Senora 
had  said  to  Juan,  "  I  fear  the  Father  will  give 
you  penance  when  he  hears  what  you  have 
said,"  and  then  turned  her  back,  while  he 
"  stood  watching  her  as  she  walked  away,  at 
her  usual  slow  pace,  her  head  slightly  bent 
forward,  her  rosary  lifted  in  her  left  hand,  and 
the  fingers  of  the  right  hand  mechanically 
slipping  the  beads."  The  painting  is  in  every 
detail  true  to  the  text. 

The  portraits  of  Ramona  and  Alessandro  are 
idealized  ones.  In  their  faces  are  plainly  de- 
picted the  intensity  of  their  natures,  their  strong 
characters,  their  sufferings  and  their  sorrows. 
These  pictures  are  so  strikingly  true  to  the  de- 
scriptions of  the  heroine  and  hero  in  the  story 
as  to  be  readily  recognized.  They  reveal  an 
undercurrent  of  woe  that  is  the  pathos  of  the 

Another  of  the  paintings  is  a  portrait  of  Fa- 
ther Salvierderra,  in  cowl  and  cassock,  a  cross 
with  the  Savior  pendent  from  the  neck.  It 
was,  as  before  stated,  seventeen  years  after 


*  > 

Mr.  Sandham  had  seen  the  original  of  Father 
Salvierderra  at  Santa  Barbara  Mission,  Father 
Francisco  de  Jesus  Sanchez,  O.F.M.,  that  he 
produced  the  painting  of  Father  Salvierderra 
for  "  Ramona."  It  would  seem  that  the  artist 
desired  to  idealize  the  priestly  character.  The 
face  is  uplifted,  the  eyes  turned  toward  heaven. 
All  eyes  are  beautiful  when  looking  heaven- 
ward. In  the  portrait  are  strongly  portrayed 
those  intensely  devout,  unselfish  and  saintly 
virtues  attributed  to  Father  Salvierderra  in  the 
romance,  and  actually  possessed  by  his  pro- 
totype, Father  Sanchez. 

In  the  description  of  Father  Salvierderra, 
when  journeying  from  Santa  Barbara  Mis- 
sion to  Camulos  ranch,  pausing  many  times  to 
gaze  at  the  beautiful  flowers  that  lined  his 
pathway,  Mr.  Sandham  found  inspiration  for 
the  painting  of  the  Father  standing,  leaning 
on  his  staff,  viewing  the  scene  about  him. 
"  Flowers  were  always  dear  to  the  Francis- 
cans," is  the  quotation  from  the  story  that 
designates  this  painting.  This  picture  brings 
realization  to  this  text  of  the  story:  "It  was 
melancholy  to  see  how,  after  each  one  of  these 
pauses,  each  fresh  drinking  in  of  the  beauty 
of  the  landscape  and  the  balmy  air,  the  old  man 
resumed  his  slow  pace,  with  a  long  sigh  and 



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his  eyes  cast  down.  The  fairer  this  beautiful 
land,  the  sadder  to  know  it  lost  to  the  Church 
— alien  hands  reaping  its  fullness,  establish- 
ing new  customs,  new  laws.  All  the  way  down 
the  coast  from  Santa  Barbara  he  had  seen,  at 
every  stopping  place,  new  tokens  of  the  set- 
tling up  of  the  country — farms  opening,  towns 
growing;  the  Americans  pouring  in  at  all  points 
to  reap  the  advantage  of  their  new  possession. 
It  was  this  which  had  made  his  journey  heavy- 
hearted,  and  made  him  feel,  in  approaching  the 
Senora  Moreno's,  as  if  he  were  coming  to  one 
of  the  last  sure  strongholds  of  the  Catholic 
faith  left  in  the  country." 

When  Felipe,  not  yet  recovered  from  a  recent 
fever,  undertook  to  assist  at  the  sheep-shearing, 
he  fainted  on  the  top  of  the  shed  where  he  was 
at  work  packing  the  wool.  There  was  con- 
fusion and  anxiety  because  of  the  difficulty 
incident  to  removing  him  to  the  ground.  It 
was  Alessandro  who  sprang  up  the  cleated 
post,  seized  Felipe  and  carried  him  along  a 
plank  to  a  place  of  safety.  It  was  a  tragic  mo- 
ment, and  the  scene  is  vividly  delineated  by 
Mr.  Sandham  in  another  of  the  paintings. 

During  Felipe's  illness  nearly  every  day  Ales- 
sandro was  sent  for  to  play  his  violin  or  sing 
to  him.  One  of  the  paintings  is  of  Felipe's 


bedroom,  the  Seriora  Moreno  sitting  by  her 
stricken  son,  and  Alessandro,  with  violin  and 
bow  at  ease,  singing.  "  It  seemed  to  be  the 
only  thing  that  roused  him  from  his  half 
lethargic  state."  Felipe  would  say  to  Alessan- 
dro, "I  am  going  to  sleep  now,  sing."  The 
artist  impressively  presents  the  sick-room  scene, 
the  anxious  watching  of  the  devoted  mother, 
the  ardor  and  seriousness  of  the  Indian  singer. 

A  thrilling  scene  is  presented  by  the  paint- 
ing portraying  Senora  Moreno  enraged  at  the 
discovery  of  Ramona  locked  in  the  arms  of 
Alessandro  under  the  willows  at  the  washing 
stones  in  the  twilight.  With  the  stamping 
of  her  foot,  and  directing  with  outstretched 
arm,  she  ordered  Alessandro  out  of  her  sight; 
but  "  Alessandro  did  not  stir,  except  to  turn 
toward  Ramona  with  an  inquiring  look." 
Senora  Moreno  is  pictured  in  extreme  coldness, 
hatred  and  anger,  Alessandro  in  despair,  Ra- 
mona in  dignified  protest;  the  whole  eliciting 
sympathy  for  the  lovers,  disdain  for  the 

A  pathetic  part  of  the  "  Ramona "  story  is 
the  journeying  of  Alessandro  and  the  heroine 
on  horseback  from  Camulos  ranch  to  Temec- 
ula  and  thence  on  to  their  place  of  marriage, 
San  Diego.  "  Baba  and  Benito,"  the  respective 




(l)  Grcvcja  Pa,  the  oldest  woman  of  the  Temccula  Indians. 
(2)  A  band  of  Mission  Indian  shearers.  "  It  was  sheep-shearing 
time  in  Southern  California.  *  *  *  Forms,  dusky  black  against 
the  fiery  sky,  were  coming  down  the  valley.  It  was  the  band  of 
Indian  shearers."  "  Ramona." 


names  of  Ramona's  horse  and  Alessandro's, 
"  were  now  such  friends  they  liked  to  pac^ 
closely  side  by  side;  and  Baba  and  Benito  were 
by  no  means  without  instinctive  recognitions  of 
the  sympathy  between  their  riders  .  .  .  Baba 
had  long  ago  learned  to  stop  when  his  mistress 
laid  her  hand  on  Alessandro's  shoulder.  He 
stopped  now,  and  it  was  long  minutes  before 
he  had  the  signal  to  go  on  again."  And  here 
was  a  demonstration  of  the  love  that  inflamed 
Alessandro  and  compelled  him  to  despair  be- 
cause of  his  abject  poverty  in  worldly  goods, 
causing  him  to  cry  out  to  Ramona,  "  *  Majella ! 
Majella!  .  .  .  What  can  Alessandro  do  now? 
What,  oh,  what?  Majella  gives  all;  Alessandro 
gives  nothing ! ' ;  and  he  bowed  his  forehead 
on  her  hands  before  he  put  them  back  gently  on 
Baba's  neck."  Mr.  Sandham's  temperament 
was  in  accord  with  this  touching  episode,  which 
is  the  subject  of  one  of  the  most  interesting  of 
his  "  Ramona  "  paintings. 

A  demonstration  of  implicit  trust  of  woman 
in  man  and  of  religious  fidelity  of  the  latter  in 
reciprocation  is  the  experience  of  Ramona  and 
Alessandro  in  the  mountains  the  first  night 
after  their  elopement  from  Sefiora  Moreno's. 
"  Before  nightfall  of  this,  their  first  day  in  the 
wilderness,  Alessandro  had  prepared  for  Ra- 


mona  a  bed  of  finely  broken  twigs  of  the 
manzanita  and  ceanothus.  .  .  .  Above  these 
he  spread  layers  of  glossy  ferns,  five  and  six 
feet  long."  Ramona  laid  down  to  rest.  Ales- 
sandro  made  no  bed  for  himself.  He  was  to 
watch  the  night  through,  that  no  harm  should 
come  to  his  Majella.  "  Ramona  was  very  tired 
and  she  was  very  happy.  All  night  long  she 
slept  like  a  child.  She  did  not  hear  Alessan- 
dro's  steps.  .  .  .  Hour  after  hour  Alessandro 
sat  leaning  against  a  huge  sycamore  trunk,  and 
watched  her.  .  .  .  She  looked  like  a  saint,  he 
thought."  The  artist  fully  grasped  this  sweet 
and  peaceful  scene.  He  made  the  canvas  record 
and  retell  the  implicit  trust  of  Ramona,  the 
gallant  chivalry  of  Alessandro. 

In  the  graveyard  at  Temecula  Alessandro 
and  Ramona  met  Carmena,  an  Indian  woman, 
crazed  with  grief,  who  was  passing  her  days  at 
her  baby's  grave  in  Pachanga  and  her  nights 
by  her  husband's  at  Temecula;  all  the  result 
of  American  aggression  in  the  Indians'  coun- 
try. Carmena  watched  with  Ramona  while 
Alessandro  went  to  Hartsel's  in  Temecula  to 
secure  his  father's  violin.  The  reproduction  of 
this  incident  on  canvas  by  Mr.  Sandham  is  in 
illustration  of  the  lines  of  the  story  reading: 
"  Dismounting,  and  taking  Baba's  bridle  over 


her  arm,  she  bowed  her  head  assentingly,  and 
still  keeping  firm  hold  of  Carmena's  hand, 
followed  her."  It  is  a  touching  scene,  and  a 
test  of  the  artistic  ability  of  the  painter. 

The  day  after  their  marriage  Alessandro  and 
Ramona  arrived  at  San  Pasquale,  where  had 
located  some  of  Alessandro's  Temecula  people, 
who  wondered  "  how  it  had  come  about  that 
she,  so  beautiful,  and  nurtured  in  the  Moreno 
house,  of  which  they  all  knew,  should  be  Ales- 
sandro's loving  wife.  .  .  .  Toward  night  they 
came,  bringing  in  a  hand-barrow  the  most 
aged  woman  in  the  village,  to  look  at  her.  She 
wished  to  see  the  beautiful  stranger.  .  .  . 
Those  who  had  borne  her  withdrew  and  seated 
themselves  a  few  paces  off.  Alessandro  spoke 
first.  In  a  few  words  he  told  the  old  woman  of 
Ramona's  birth,  of  their  marriage,  and  of  her 
new  name  of  adoption."  Then  followed  words 
from  Ramona,  interpreted  by  Alessandro;  and 
the  old  woman,  lifting  up  her  arms  like  a  sibyl, 
said:  "It  is  well;  I  am  your  mother.  The 
winds  of  the  valley  shall  love  you,  and  the  grass 
shall  dance  when  you  come."  The  painting  of 
Mr.  Sandham  shows  the  old  woman  and  other 
Indians  seated,  Ramona  kneeling  and  Ales- 
sandro standing,  bending,  with  his  left  hand 
on  Ramona's  right  shoulder.  It  presents  an 



affecting  climax,  and  evidences  the  genius  of 
the  artist. 

When  Felipe,  in  his  first  search  for  Ramona 
and  Alessandro,  arrived  at  Santa  Barbara  Mis- 
sion, "  the  first  figure  he  saw  was  the  venerable 
Father  Salvierderra  sitting  in  the  corridor. 
As  Felipe  approached,  the  old  man's  face 
beamed  with  pleasure,  and  he  came  forward 
tottering,  leaning  on  a  staff  in  each  hand. 
'  Welcome,  my  son,'  was  the  Father's  greeting, 
and  he  asked,  '  Are  all  well? '  Felipe  knew 
then  the  Father  had  not  seen  Ramona,  and 
dismay  seized  him.  And  when  Felipe  told  him 
he  was  seeking  Ramona,  the  Father  cried,  *  Ra- 
mona! .  .  .  Seeking  Ramona!  What  has  be- 
fallen the  blessed  child?'"  The  painting  is 
emotional  and  enlivens  the  text  of  the  story  to 

The  portrait  of  Felipe,  the  eldest  son  of 
Sefiora  Moreno,  presents  a  Mexican  gentleman 
of  culture  and  character.  The  sombrero  and 
cigarette  of  the  Mexican  are  in  evidence.  In- 
stead of  a  front  there  is  a  side  view  of  the 
subject.  The  picture  is  an  interesting  study 
of  a  young  man  who  adored  and  wished  to 
please  his  mother,  who  loved  Ramona  ardently, 
but  rationally  and  unselfishly,  and  who  was 

scorched  by  the  fire  that  raged  between  the  cold 



and  haughty  Senora  and  the  lovable  and  inno- 
cent Ramona;  and  who,  at  the  end  of  the 
tragedy,  sought  Ramona,  discovered  her  as 
Alessandro's  widow,  took  her  and  her  child  to 
Camulos,  and  afterward  went  with  them  to 
Mexico  City,  where  the  two  were  married. 
"  Sons  and  daughters  came  to  bear  his  name. 
The  daughters  were  all  beautiful;  but  the  most 
beautiful  of  them  all,  and,  it  was  said,  the 
most  beloved  by  both  father  and  mother,  was 
the  oldest  one;  the  one  who  bore  the  mother's 
name,  and  was  only  stepdaughter  to  the  Senor 
— Ramona — Ramona,  daughter  of  Alessandro, 
the  Indian." 

The  canvas  story  of  the  brutal  and  tragic 
murder  of  Alessandro  by  Jim  Farrar  is  a  paint- 
ing of  distressing  horror.  It  shows  Jim  Farrar 
on  horseback  and  Alessandro  stepping  out  of 
his  dwelling,  his  hands  pleadingly  lifted,  Ra- 
mona leaning  against  the  open  door,  her  hands 
to  her  face,  the  picture  of  grief  and  despair. 
Capitan,  the  faithful  collie,  is  at  Ramona's  side. 
The  painting  is  true  to  the  story  of  Alessan- 
dro's death. 

The  decorative  chapter  headings  from  Mr. 
Sandham's  sketches  are  an  interesting  feature 
of  the  illustrated  edition  of  "  Ramona."  They 
have  for  their  subjects  the  Camulos  chapel, 



the  torn  altar  cloth,  different  Mission  buildings, 
Indian  baskets,  Temecula  village,  Mission  bells, 
and  other  objects  described  in  "  Ramona."  All 
these  sketches  are  faithfully  correct. 

The  portrait  of  Father  Salvierderra  painted 
for  the  "  Pasadena  Edition  "  of  "  Ramona/'  is 
not  to  be  confused  with  the  original  portrait 
of  that  character  produced  by .  Mr.  Sandham 
from  life  while  he  was  at  Santa  Barbara  with 
Mrs.  Jackson  in  1883.  Of  this  original  por- 
trait Mr.  Sandham's  daughter,  Miss  Gwendo- 
line Sandham,  residing  in  London,  has  thus 
written  the  authors:  "It  is  a  very  fine  water- 
color,  and  perhaps  the  best  picture  my  father 
ever  painted,  and  has  been  *  hung  on  the  line ' 
in  most  of  the  world's  big  exhibitions;  and 
though,  for  form's  sake,  it  has  been  catalogued 
with  a  price,  it  has  always  been  exhibited  with 
the  red  star,  '  sold,'  on  it,  as  it  was  my  mother's 
property.  It  is  now  mine.  It  is  a  portrait 
study  of  the  original  of  Father  Salvierderra, 
and  was  painted,  I  believe,  in  the  cloister  of 
Santa  Barbara  Mission." 

When  Mr.  Sandham  was  making  the  "  Ra- 
mona "  sketches  at  Santa  Barbara  Mission, 
including  the  original  portrait  of  Father  Sal- 
vierderra, the  prototype  of  this  character,  Fa- 
ther Sanchez,  gave  to  the  artist  his  cassock, 



(i)  The  home  of  Tcmecula  Indians,  who,  having  been  driven 
from  that  village  by  the  whites,  took  up  their  abode  at  Pechanga. 
three  miles  away.  Mrs.  Jackson  passed  a  night  in  this  Indian 
abode.  (2)  Interior  of  chapel  at  San  Diego  Mission,  where 
Alessandro  and  Ramona  were  married.  "  In  a  neglected  weedy 
open  stood  his  (Father  Gaspara's)  chapel,  *  *  *  the  most  pro- 
foundly melancholy  in  all  Southern  California/'  "  Ramona. ' 


cowl,  sandals  and  the  hempen  girdle  with  its 
symbolical  five  knots.  The  sandals  were  well 
worn,  and,  to  quote  from  Mr.  Sandham's  note 
to  the  "Pasadena  Edition"  of  "  Ramona," 
"the  cowl  bleached  and  faded  with  the  sun — 
marks  of  the  endless  round  of  toils  and  duties 
so  faithfully  described  by  Mrs.  Jackson." 

From  a  letter  received  from  Miss  Gwendoline 
Sandham  by  the  authors  the  following  is  of 
special  interest:  "  It  might  interest  you  to  know 
that  the  Franciscan  robe  my  father  mentions 
in  his  little  note  to  *  Ramona,'  is  still  in  my 
possession.  The  father  gave  it  to  him  him- 
self on  the  condition  that  it  should  never  be 
used  for  masquerading,  theatrical  displays,  etc. 
Unfortunately  the  sandals  and  girdle  are  miss- 
ing, and  I  fear  the  moths  have  played  sad 
havoc  with  the  robe  itself,  but  it  is  a  very  real 
memento  of  the  original  of  Father  Salvierderra, 
and  as  such  my  father  always  held  it  in  sacred 
regard.  If  you  care  to  have  the  remains  of  the 
robe  to  be  presented  to  the  City  of  Los  An- 
geles I  will  be  very  glad  to  send  it  on  to  you." 

The  authors  have  accepted  the  offer  of  Miss 
Sandham,  and  the  robe  of  Father  Salvierderra 
will  be  disposed  of  in  due  time  as  directed  by 

That  Mr.  Sandham  was  an  artist  of  great 



versatility  is  evidenced  alone  by  the  variety  of 
subjects  of  the  "  Ramona "  illustrations.  His 
portrait  of  Father  Salvierderra  would  be  a 
credit  to  Van  Dyck;  the  scene  of  demonstra- 
tive love  between  Alessandro  and  Ramona  on 
horseback  proves  him  an  animal  painter  of  the 
talent  of  Landseer;  his  Mission  buildings  and 
landscapes  are  worthy  of  Fortuny. 

It  should  be  gratifying  to  "  Ramona  "  lovers 
in  California  to  know  that  the  original  paint- 
ings of  Mr.  Sandham,  from  which  were  taken 
the  illustrations  of  the  "  Pasadena  Edition  "  of 
"  Ramona,"  are  in  California,  having  been  pur- 
chased and  being  now  owned  by  Mr.  C.  C. 
Parker  of  Los  Angeles,  a  book-dealer  and  a 
book-lover,  who  pays  tribute  always  to  Helen 
Hunt  Jackson  and  lauds  the  artistic  genius  of 
Henry  Sandham. 

The  wide  range  of  Mr.  Sandham's  talent  was 
beyond  the  ordinary.  It  would  be  difficult 
to  name  an  artist  who  sketched  and  painted 
so  many  and  such  a  variety  of  subjects  as  did 
he.  He  was  equally  brilliant  with  animate  and 
inanimate  things;  portraits,  landscapes,  build- 
ings, animals  and  character  scenes  and  studies. 

"  The  Battle  of  Lexington,"  bought  by  pub- 
lic subscription,  which  now  hangs  in  the  city 
hall  at  Lexington,  is  his  work.  His  picture 


of  two  moose  in  a  death  struggle  was  awarded 
a  gold  medal  at  the  Paris  Exhibition.  In 
Canada  his  best  known  canvas  is  his  portrait 
of  Sir  John  Macdonald,  at  Ottawa,  which  the 
latter's  widow  has  declared  to  be  the  "  most 
speaking  likeness "  ever  painted  of  Canada's 
greatest  statesman. 

The  Canadian  Government  purchased  and  has 
at  Ottawa  several  other  of  his  paintings,  the 
best  being  "  St.  Mark's  of  Venice." 

There  was  a  Memorial  Exhibition  of  Mr. 
Sandham's  sketches  and  paintings,  found  in 
his  studio  after  his  death,  at  the  Imperial  In- 
stitute, London,  under  the  patronage  of  all  the 
former  living  Governors  General  of  Canada, 
and  the  then  recently  appointed  one,  H.  R.  H., 
the  Duke  of  Connaught;  and  other  prominent 
persons,  including  United  States  Ambassador, 
Hon.  Whitelaw  Reid.  One  gallery  was  reserved 
entirely  for  the  royal  reception.  Four  hundred 
and  sixty-six  pictures  and  sketches  of  the  dead 
artist  were  exhibited.  In  the  list  were  these 
California  subjects:  "Death  Bell  of  the  Bro- 
thers," Santa  Barbara  Mission;  portrait,  "Fa- 
ther Salvierderra " ;  "California  Hydraulic 
Mining";  "Young  Chinese  Merchant";  "On 
a  California  Ranch";  "After  Sundown"; 
"The  Priests'  Garden,"  Santa  Barbara  Mis- 


sion;  "  Cactus  in  Bloom  ";  "  Mountain  Clouds  "; 
"  California." 

During  most  of  the  time  Mr.  Sandham  was 
in  Los  Angeles  he  made  his  home  at  the 
hacienda  of  Don  Antonio  and  Dona  Mariana 
de  Coronel.  Mrs.  Jackson  introduced  him  to 
this  courteous  and  hospitable  couple,  and  asked 
as  a  favor  that  he  be  permitted  to  be  in  their 
home,  so,  as  Mrs.  Jackson  stated,  he  might 
hear  stories  of  the  Mission  Indians  and  study 
and  sketch  them  in  life.  She  especially  re- 
quested that  the  Coronels  should  select  In- 
dians as  subjects  for  Mr.  Sandham's  work. 

For  two  months  at  a  time  Mr.  Sandham 
was  at  the  Coronel  home,  working  earnestly 
and  constantly.  His  illustrations  of  Mrs.  Jack- 
son's writings  were  but  a  minor  part  of  his 
drawings  and  paintings  while  in  California. 
"  He  was  an  enthusiastic  worker,"  said  Dona 
Mariana  de  Coronel  to  the  authors.  "  I  have 
known  him  to  sketch  and  paint  from  four  to 
five  subjects  in  one  day,  all  complete.  My 
husband  and  I  brought  to  him  many  Indians, 
men,  women  and  children,  dressed  in  their 
native  costumes,  and  assisted  in  posing  them 
for  Mr.  Sandham,  who  sketched  and  painted 
them.  He  was  a  most  courteous  and  consider- 
ate gentleman.  Whenever  any  person  or  thing 


attracted  him,  out  came  his  pencil  and  sketch- 
book and  he  earnestly  proceeded  to  work.  I 
remember  well  one  day  I  was  returning  to  the 
kitchen  from  the  orchard,  carrying  a  panful  of 
freshly  picked  peaches.  He  saw  me,  and  I 
had  to  please  him  by  stopping  until  he  sketched 
me.  He  said  he  wanted  the  picture  to  send  to 
his  wife.  Mrs.  Jackson  and  Mr.  Sandham  were 
congenial  and  harmonious  companions.  Both 
were  enthusiastic  in  their  respective  lines  of 

From  a  source  other  than  Sefiora  de  Coronel 
the  authors  have  the  information  that  Mr. 
Sandham  pronounced  her  the  best  and  nearest 
type  of  the  Madonna  he  had  ever  seen  in  life. 
He  painted  a  bust  picture  of  her,  which  he 
kept  in  a  prominent  place  in  his  eastern  studio, 
which  he  always  designated  as  "  My  California 

Mr.  Sandham's  description  of  an  evening  at 
the  Coronel  home  is  interesting,  and  evidences 
the  pleasure  of  his  stay  there,  and  is  here  given : 

"  We  were  sitting  on  the  veranda,  whence  we 
could  count  thirty  different  kinds  of  roses,  and 
Don  Antonio  in  the  gentle  Spanish  was  telling 
us  of  the  California  of  the  past.  Sefiora,  his 
charming  young  wife,  interpreted  for  us,  often 
beginning  a  sentence  before  he  had  quite  fin- 



ished,  their  voices  unconsciously  blending  in 
one  harmonious  chord,  to  which  Don  Antonio, 
leaning  back,  dressed  in  full  Mexican  costume, 
kept  up  a  gentle  accompaniment  on  the  guitar. 
The  various  ranch  hands,  sauntering  up,  seated 
themselves  in  a  semicircle  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs,  a  picturesque  group  in  their  broad- 
brimmed  sombreros  with  scrapes  draped  about 
their  shoulders.  In  the  deepening  darkness  the 
only  lights  came  from  the  cigarettes  of  the 
men,  whose  interest,  like  our  own,  was  con- 
centrated on  the  recital  of  the  Don.  There, 
with  music  and  the  scent  of  roses  filling  the 
night,  we  lingered,  to  listen  to  stories  of  the 
forgotten  past,  and  to  learn  of  old  customs  of 
the  California  that  was.  It  was  here  that  we 
learned  for  the  first  time  of  the  singing  of  the 
sunrise  hymn  so  artistically  introduced  in 
Chapters  V  and  XI  of  '  Ramona.' " 

After  witnessing  the  shearing  of  a  band  of 
sheep  at  "  Lucky  "  Baldwin's  ranch,  Mrs.  Jack- 
son sat  in  an  unusually  prolonged  silence.  It 
was  Mr.  Sandham  who  said  to  her,  "  You  are 
tired?";  to  which  she  thoughtfully  and  feel- 
ingly answered:  "  No;  but  for  the  first  time  in 
my  life  I  appreciate  the  scriptural  text,  '  As 
a  sheep  before  her  shearers  is  dumb/  "  "  The 
helpless  protest  of  the  Mission  Indians,"  wrote 










s;.  Is 

02.        g 

ss  <sc: 

*  xr 

,§"   O  M 

^S    c^§ 

18-  ox 

5^    2:0 

p.  a  "H 
*     ° 

I    3 

-  w 


I        H 

i  a 


(l)  The  guitar  of  Don  Antonio  dc  Coronel.  brought  to  Cali- 
fornia in  1835,  with  which  he  frequently  entertained  Helen  Hunt 
Jackson.  Now  in  the  Coroncl  Collection,  Chamber  of  Commerce, 
Los  Angeles.  *'  Don  Antonio  *  *  *  dressed  in  full  Mexican 
garb,  kept  up  a  gentle  accompaniment  on  the  guitar."  Page  254. 
(2)  "The  Death  Bell."  Santa  Barbara  Mission,  mndc  in  i?37- 
"  On  the  corridor  of  the  inner  court  hank'*  a  l>cl!  which  is  rung 
for  the  hours  of  the  daily  offices  and  secular  duties.  It  is  also 
struck  whenever  a  friar  dies,  to  announce  that  all  is  over.  It  is 
the  duty  of  the  brother  who  Ins  watched  the  last  breath  of  the 
dying  one  to  go  immediately  and  strike  this  bell.  Its  sad  note 
has  echoed  many  times  through  the  corridor."  (Mrs.  Jackson  in 
of  California  and  the  Missions*') 


Mr.  Sandham,  "  had  a  new  meaning  for  her 
from  that  moment." 

Henry  Sandham's  work  is  inseparably  con- 
nected with  "  Ramona."  In  conversing  with 
him  concerning  the  novel  Mrs.  Jackson  was 
wont  to  designate  it  as  "our  book." 

The  original  paintings  from  which  the  illus- 
trations of  the  novel  were  taken  should  belong 
to  the  public,  and  to  this  end  the  authors  are 
negotiating  with  the  owner,  that  they  may  be 
placed  for  all  time  in  the  Los  Angeles  Museum  of 
History,  Science  and  Art.  They  do  mute  but  just 
tribute  to  Henry  Sandham,  companion  and  co- 
worker  in  California  with  Helen  Hunt  Jackson. 

"  His  pieces  so  with  live  objects  strive, 
That  both  or  pictures  seem,  or  both  alive, 
Nature  herself,  amaz'd,  does  doubting  stand, 
Which  is  her  own  and  which  the  painter's  hand ; 
And  does  attempt  the  like  with  less  success, 
When  her  own  work  in  twins  she  would  ex- 

His  all-resembling  pencil  did  out-pass 
The  mimic  imagery  of  looking-glass. 
Nor  was  his  life  less  perfect  than  his  art, 
Nor  was  his  hand  less  erring  than  his  heart, 
There  was  no  false  or  fading  color  there, 
The  figures  sweet  and  full  proportioned  were.': 



IT  is  among  the  strangest  anomalies  of  his- 
trionic annals  in  the  United  States  that  the 
great  American  novel  should  never  have 
been  successfully  dramatized.  There  would 
seem  to  be  in  the  romance  of  Mrs.  Jackson  a 
superabundance  of  genuine  dramatic  material, 
a  plethora  of  tragic  as  well  as  dramatic  inci- 
dents, any  amount  of  sentiment  and  pathos, 
with  opportunities  for  the  introduction  of  folk- 
lore and  folk-song  almost  boundless,  with  the 
widest  range  for  the  costuming  of  characters 
and  the  introduction  of  stage  effects.  Yet 
fifty-three  distinct  failures  to  dramatize  the 
story  have  been  recorded,  while  "  Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin  "  holds  the  record  for  the  largest  aggre- 
gate box  sales  of  any  American  play  ever 

What  more  beautiful  characters  than  those 
of  Ramona  and  Alessandro?    What  more  sub 
lime    character    than   that    of    Father    Salvier- 
derra?    Where    will    be    found    such    genuine 
spiritual  devotion  as  is  shown  in  all  the  mem- 


bers  of  Sefiora  Moreno's  household?  Where 
such  another  exhibition  of  true  maidenly  love 
as  that  of  Ramona  for  Alessandro?  Where  a 
more  chivalrous  lover  than  Alessandro?  Where 
such  an  incident  of  pure,  patient  devotion  as 
that  of  Felipe  for  the  girl  his  mother  could  not 
love?  What  play- writer  could  ask  for  greater 
emotional  climaxes  than  the  discovery  by  the 
Indian  of  the  wondrous  beauty  of  the  maiden, 
and  the  joyful  hint  that  the  blood  of  his  race 
ran  in  her  veins?  Or  the  unfortunate  discov- 
ery by  Sefiora  Moreno  of  the  two  at  the  first 
love-making  in  the  willows?  What  more 
thrilling  scene  than  the  fainting  of  Felipe  on 
the  wool-shed  and  the  night  flight  of  Jose  to 
Temecula  for  the  violin? 

What  prettier  setting  than  the  meeting  of 
Father  Salvierderra  with  Ramona  in  the  mus- 
tard field?  What  more  sisterly  devotion  and 
innocent  conception  than  that  displayed  by 
Ramona  in  saving  Margarita  from  disgrace  and 
punishment  for  carelessness  in  handling  the 
altar  cloth?  What  more  pathetic  scene  than 
the  deathbed  of  Sefiora  Moreno,  pointing  her 
bony  finger  at  the  hidden  chamber,  wherein  the 
Ramona  jewels  were  kept,  and  struggling  for 
breath  to  articulate  the  secret  she  had  so  long 
kept  from  her  son?  What  more  terrible  scene 



than  the  driving  of  the  Indians  from  their 
homes  at  Temecula  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet? 
What  more  thrilling  tragedy  than  the  slaying 
of  Alessandro  before  the  very  eyes  of  his  de- 
voted Majella?  What  more  romantic  spectacle 
than  the  night  journeys  over  the  mountains  to 
San  Diego  of  the  homeless  lovers,  the  devo- 
tion of  the  one,  the  perfect  trustfulness  of  the 
other?  Where  could  be  found  another  such 
wholesome,  genuinely  good  soul  as  Aunt  Ri? 

The  story  is  clean,  instructive  and  uplifting 
throughout,  the  purpose  sublime,  the  end  sad 
but  sweet. 

And  yet  it  never  has  been  successfully  dra- 
matized or  staged.  The  last  unfortunate  and 
inexplicable  failure,  too,  occurred  in  the  very 
heart  of  Ramonaland,  where  local  color  was 
in  the  very  atmosphere,  and  every  heart  in 
the  audience  pulsated  with  fervid  sympathy 
with  the  theme. 

Passing  strange,  but  all  too  true.  It  was 
at  the  Mason  Opera  House,  Los  Angeles. 
Never  a  larger  or  more  enthusiastic  audience. 
Never  a  more  fashionable  or  aristocratic  one. 
Never  an  audience  more  kind  or  patient  or  con- 
siderate; yet  never  one  so  disappointed.  Ra- 
mona  was  "played"  till  twelve  o'clock,  and 
the  people  went  to  their  homes  grieving  as  one 


might  over  the  fall  and  breakage  of  a  beautiful 
vase.  The  writer  grieved  with  the  rest,  sorry 
for  the  dramatist,  sorry  for  the  actors  and 
actresses,  yet  more  filled  with  compassion  for 
the  audience. 

Some  day  a  real  dramatist  will  rise  up  and 
give  to  the  American  people  a  correct  presenta- 
tion of  one  of  the  sweetest,  most  pathetic  and 
soulful  stories  ever  written. 


Ina  Coolbrith 

What  songs  found  voice  upon  those  lips, 
What  magic  dwelt  within  the  pen, 

Whose  music  into  silence  slips, 
Whose  spell  lives  not  again! 

For  her  the  clamorous  to-day 
The  dreamful  yesterday  became ; 

The  brands  upon  dead  hearths  that  lay 
Leaped  into  living  flame. 

Clear   ring   the   silvery    Mission   bells 
Their  calls  to  vesper  and  to  mass; 

O'er  vineyard  slopes,  thro'  fruited  dells, 
The  long  processions  pass. 

The  pale  Franciscan  lifts  in  air 

The  cross  above  the  kneeling  throng; 

Their  simple  world  how  sweet  with  prayer, 
With  chant  and  matin  song! 

There,  with  her  dimpled,  lifted  hands, 
Parting  the  mustard's  golden  plumes, 

The  dusky  maid,  Ramona,  stands, 
Amid  the  sea  of  blooms. 

•  From  "  todfs  from  the  Golden  Gate,"  with  permiMioo. 



And  Alessandro,  type  of  all 
His  broken  tribe,  for  evermore 

An  exile,  hears  the  stranger  call 
Within  his  father's  door. 

The  visions  vanish  and  are  not, 

Still  are  the  sounds  of  peace  and  strife, 

Passed  with  the  earnest  heart  and  thought 
Which  lured  them  back  to  life. 

O,  sunset  land!  O,  land  of  vine, 
And  rose,  and  bay!  in  silence  here 

Let  fall  one  little  leaf  of  thine, 
With  love,  upon  her  bier. 





Blanca  Yndart 







Corralez   (Corrales) 

Del  Valle 

Domingo  Garcia 



El  Recreo 

£1  Retrio 


Francisco  de  Jesus 

Grevoja  Pa 





Blan'-ca   En-dar't 







K6r-ra-lath'   (Cor-ra'1-es) 

Dal  Va'-lya 

Do-me'n-go  Gar-the'-a 



Al  Ra-cra'-o 

Al  Ra-tre'-6 


Fran-the's-co  da  Ha-s66's 

Gra-vo'-ha  Pa 




Jos6  Jesus  Lopez 

Jos6  Pachito 




Junipero  Serra 

La  Jolla  (La  Joya) 

La  Puente 


Los  Angeles 

Los  Coyotes 



Mesa  Grande 






Pablo  Assis 





Pio  Pico 







Rojerio  Rocha 


San  Bias 

San  Corgonio 

San  Jacinto 


Ho-sa'  Ha-s66's  Lo -path 

H6-sa'  Pa-chc'-to 




H6o-ne'-pa-r6  Sa'r-ra 

La  Ho'-lya  (La  Ho -ya) 

La  P65-an'-ta 


Los  An'-ha-las 

Los  K5-yo'-tas 



Ma'-sa  Gra'n-da 






Pa'-blo  As-se's 





Pe'-6  Pe'-co 







R6-ha'-rc-6  Ro'-cha 


San  Bias 

San  C6r-g6'-ne-6 

San  Ha-then'-to 



San  Luis  Obispo  San  L66'-es  O-be's-po 

San  Luis  Rey  San  L66'-es  Ray 

San  Ysidro  San  E-se'-dro 

Santa  Ynez  Sa'n-ta  E-na'th 

Senor  Sa-nyo'r 

Sefiora  Sa-nyo'-ra 

Scrapes  Sa-ra'-pas 

Tehachapi  Ta-a-cha'-pe 

Ulpiano  6ol-pea'-no 

Vaquero  Va-ka'-ro 

Varela  Va-ra'-la 

Vibiana  Vc-bea'-na 

Ybare   (Ybarra)  E-ba'r-ra  (E-bar-ra) 

Ygnacio  Eg-na'-the-o 

Yndart  En-da'rt 

Ysabel  E-sa-bal 

Zacatecas  Tha-ka-ta'-kas 

Zalvidea  Thal-ve'-da-a 


•MUMS  m"ii